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MARIANELA 


BY 


B.   PEREZ    GALDOS 

Author  of  "  Gloria,"  etc. 


FROM  THE  SPANISH  BY  CLARA   BELL 


REVISED  AND   CORRECTED    IN   THE   UNITED   STATES 


NEW  YORK 
WILLIAM  S.  GOTTSBERGER,  PUBLISHER 

11  MURRAY  STREET 

1883 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1883 

BY  WILLIAM  S.  GOTTSBERGER 
In  the  Office  of  the  Librarian  of  Congress,  at  Washington 


THIS   TRANSLATION  WAS   MADE   EXPRESSLY   FOR   THE   PUBLISHER 


oj! 

S.    Got 


TRANSLATOR'S   PREFACE. 


THOSE  who  have  read  "  Gloria "  will,  it  is 
hoped,  hail  with  pleasure  another  work  by  the 
same  writer,  Perez  Galdos —  different  it  is  true, 
but  in  its  way  not  less  delightful. 

The  strongly- marked  humor  and  darkly- 
painted  tragedy  of  "  Gloria  "  are  not  to  be  found 
in  "Marianela;"  the  characters  are  distinct  and 
crisply  sketched,  but  with  a  tender  hand,  the 
catastrophe  is  pitiable,  rather  shocking;  the  whole 
tone  is  idyllic. 

I  have  not  hesitated  to  translate  literally  the 
Spanish  words  of  endearment ;  for  though  they  are 
foreign  to  the  calmer  spirit  of  our  northern 
tongue  they  are  too  characteristic  to  be  lost,  and 
they  are  strangely  pathetic  as  the  only  outlet 
found  for  the  imprisoned  spirit  of  the  hapless 
little  heroine. 

CLARA   BELL. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAP.  PAGE. 

I. — Gone  Astray.   -  I 

II. — Guided  Right.  IO 

III. — A  Dialogue  which  explains  much.         24 

IV. — Stony  Hearts.  35 

V. — Labor,  and  a  Landscape  with  Figures.  52 

VI. — Absurdities. 

VII. — More  Absurdities. 

VIII. — And  yet  more. 

IX.— The  Brothers  Golfin. 

X. — Nobody's  Children. 

XI. — The  Patriarch  of  Aldeacorba. 

XII. — Doctor  Celipin. 

XIII. — Between  two  Baskets. 

XIV. — How  the  Virgin  Mary  appeared  to 

Nela.  151 

XV.— The  Three  Children.  164 

XVI.— The  Vow.  172 

XVII. — A  Fugitive.  179 

XVIII. — Nela  decides  that  she  must  go.     -      192 

XIX.— Nela  is  Tamed.  201 

XX.— A  New  World.  -     220 

XXI.— Eyes  that  Kill.  234* 

XXII.— Farewell.  -     260 


M  ARIANELA. 


CHAPTER    I. 

GONE    ASTRAY. 

THE  sun  had  set.  After  the  brief  interval  of 
twilight  the  night  fell  calm  and  dark,  and  in  its 
gloomy  bosom  the  last  sounds  of  a  sleepy  world 
died  gently  away  The  traveller  went  forward  on 
his  way,  hastening  his  step  as  night  came  on ;  the 
path  he  followed  was  narrow  and  worn  by  the  con- 
stant tread  of  men  and  beasts,  and  led  gently  up 
a  hill  on  whose  verdant  slopes  grew  picturesque 
clumps  of  wild  cherry  trees,  beeches  and  oaks. — 
The  reader  perceives  that  we  are  in  the  north  of 
Spain. 

Our  traveller  was  a  man  of  middle  age,  strongly 
built,  tall  and  broad-shouldered  ;  his  movements 
were  brisk  and  resolute,  his  step  firm,  his  manner 
somewhat  rugged,  his  eye  bold  and  bright ;  his 
pace  was  nimble,  considering  that  he  was  de- 
cidedly stout,  and  he  was — the  reader  may  at 
once  be  told,  though  somewhat  prematurely — as 


MARIANELA. 


good  a  soul  as  you  may  meet  with  anywhere. 
He  was  dressed,  as  a  man  in  easy  circumstances 
should  be  dressed  for  a  journey  in  spring  weather, 
with  one  of  those  round  shady  hats,  which,  from 
their  ugly  shape,  have  been  nicknamed  mush- 
rooms (hongo),  a  pair  of  field-glasses  hanging  to 
a  strap,  and  a  knotted  stick  which,  when  he  did 
not  use  it  to  support  his  steps,  served  to  push 
aside  the  brambles  when  they  flung  their  thorny 
branches  across  so  as  to  catch  his  dress. 

He  presently  stopped,  and  gazing  round  the 
dim  horizon,  he  seemed  vexed  and  puzzled.  He 
evidently  was  not  sure  of  his  way  and  was  looking 
round  for  some  passing  native  of  the  district  who 
might  give  him  such  topographical  information  as 
might  enable  him  to  reach  his  destination. 

"  I  cannot  be  mistaken,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  They  told  me  to  cross  the  river  by  the  stepping- 
stones — and  I  did  so — then  to  walk  on,  straight 
on.  And  there,  to  my  right,  I  do  in  fact,  see  that 
detestable  town  which  I  should  call  Villafangosa 
by  reason  of  the  enormous  amount  of  mud  that 
chokes  the  streets. — Well  then,  I  can  but  go  'on, 
straight  on'  —  I  rather  like  the  phrase,  and  if  I 
bore  arms,  I  would  adopt  it  for  my  motto  —  in 
order  to  find  myself  at  last  at  the  famous  mines  of 
Socartes." 


MARIANELA.  3 

But  before  he  had  gone  much  farther,  he  added : 
"  I  have  lost  my  way,  beyond  a  doubt  I  have  lost 
my  way.  — This,  Teodoro  Golfin,  is  the  result  of 
your  'on,  straight  on.'  Bah  !  these  blockheads  do 
not  know  the  meaning  of  words ;  either  they 
meant  to  laugh  at  you  or  else  they  did  not  know 
the  way  to  the  mines  of  Socartes.  A  huge  min- 
ing establishment  must  be  evident  to  the  senses, 
with  its  buildings  and  chimneys,  its  noise  of  ham- 
mers and  snorting  of  furnaces,  neighing  of  horses 
and  clattering  of  machinery — and  I  neither  see, 
nor  hear,  nor  smell  anything.  I  might  be  in  a 
desert!  How  absolutely  solitary  !  If  I  believed 
in  witches,  I  could  fancy  that  Fate  intended  me 
this  night  to  have  the  honor  of  making  acquain- 
tance with  some.  Deuce  take  it !  why  is  there  no 
one  to  be  seen  in  these  parts  ?  And  it  will  be  half 
an  hour  yet  before  the  moon  rises.  Ah  !  treacher- 
ous Luna,  it  is  you  who  are  to  blame  for  my  mis- 
adventure.—  If  only  I  could  see  what  sort  of  place 
I  am  in.  —  However,  what  could  I  expect?"  and 
he  shrugged  his  shoulders  with  the  air  of  a  vigor- 
ous man  who  scorns  danger.  "  What,  Golfin,  after 
having  wandered  all  round  the  world  are  you  go- 
ing to  give  in  now  ?  The  peasants  were  right  after 
all:  'on,  straight  on.'  The  universal  law  of  loco- 
motion cannot  fail  me  here." 


MARIANELA. 


And  he  bravely  set  out  to  test  the  law,  and 
went  on  about  a  kilometre  farther,  following  the 
paths  which  seemed  to  start  from  under  his  feet, 
crossing  each  other  and  breaking  off  at  a  short 
distance,  in  a  thousand  angles  which  puzzled  and 
tired  him.  Stout  as  his  resolution  was,  at  last  he 
grew  weary  of  his  vain  efforts.  The  paths,  which 
had  at  first  all  led  upwards,  began  to  slope  down- 
wards as  they  crossed  each  other,  and  at  last  he 
came  to  so  steep  a  slope  that  he  could  only  hope 
to  get  to  the  bottom  by  rolling  down  it. 

"  A  pretty  state  of  things  !"  he  exclaimed,  try- 
ing to  console  himself  for  this  provoking  situation 
by  his  sense  of  the  ridiculous.  "  Where  have  you 
got  to  now  my  friend  ?  This  is  a  perfect  abyss.  Is 
anything  to  be  seen  at  the  bottom.  No,  nothing, 
absolutely  nothing — the  hill-side  has  disappeared, 
the  earth  has  been  dug  away.  There  is  nothing  to 
be  seen  but  stones  and  barren  soil  tinged  red  with 
iron.  I  have  reached  the  mines,  no  doubt  of  that 
— and  yet  there  is  not  a  living  soul  to  be  seen,  no 
smoky  chimneys ;  no  noise,  not  a  train  in  the  dis- 
tance, not  even  a  dog  barking.  What  am  I  to  do? 
out  there  the  path  seems  to  slope  up  again. — 
Shall  I  follow  that?  Shall  I  leave  the  beaten 
track  ?  Shall  I  go  back  again  ?  Oh  !  this  is  ab- 
surd !  Either  I  am  not  myself  or  I  will  reach 


MARIANELA.  5 

Socarte  to-night,  and  be  welcomed  by  my  worthy 
Brother  !  '  On,  straight  on.'  ' 

He  took  a  step,  and  his  foot  sank  in  the  soft 
and  crumbling  soil.  "  What  next,  ye  ruling 
stars  ?  Am  I  to  be  swallowed  up  alive  ?  If  only 
that  lazy  moon  would  favor  us  with  a  little  light 
we  might  see  each  other's  faces — and,  upon  my 
soul,  I  can  hardly  expect  to  find  Paradise  at  the 
bottom  of  this  hole.  It  seems  to  be  the  crater  of 
some  extinct  volcano  ....  Nothing  could  be  easier 
than  a  slide  down  this  beautiful  precipice.  What 
have  we  here  ?  ....  A  stone  ;  capital — a  good 
seat  while  I  smoke  a  cigar  and  wait  for  the  moon 
to  rise." 

The  philosophical  Golfin  seated  himself  as 
calmly  as  if  it  were  a  bench  by  a  promenade, 
and  was  preparing  for  his  smoke,  when  he  heard  a 
voice — yes,  beyond  a  doubt,  a  human  voice,  at 
some  little  distance — a  plaintive  air,  or  to  speak 
more  accurately,  a  melanchply^chant  of  a  single 
phrase,  of  which  the  last  cadence  was  prolonged 
into  a  "  dying  fall,"  and  which  at  last  sank  into 
the  silence  of  the  night,  so  softly  that  the  ear 
could  not  detect  when  it  ceased. 

"  Come,"  said  the  listener,  well  pleased,  "  there 
are  some  human  beings  about.  That  was  a  girl's 
voice ;  yes,  certainly  a  girl's,  and  a  lovely  voice 


6  MARIANELA. 

too.  I  like  the  popular  airs  of  this  country-side. 
Now  it  has  stopped.  .  .  .  Hark !  it  will  soon  begin 
again.  .  .  .  Yes,  I  hear  it  once  more.  What  a  beau- 
tiful voice,  and  what  a  pathetic  air !  You  might 
believe  that  it  rose  front, the  bowels  of  the  earth, 
and  that  Senor  Golfin,  the  most  matter-of-fact  and 
least  superstitious  man  in  this  world,  was  going  to 
make  acquaintance  with  sylphs,  nymphs,  gnomes, 
dryads,  and  all  the  rabble  rout  that  obey  the  mys- 
terious spirit  of  the  place. — But,  if  I  am  not  mis- 
taken, the  voice  is  going  farther  away — the  fair 
singer  is  departing  ....  Hi,  girl,  child,  stop — wait 
a  minute !...." 

The  voice  which  had  for  a  few  minutes  so 
charmed  the  lost  wanderer  with  its  enchanting 
strains  was  dying  away  in  the  dark  void,  and  at 
the  shouts  of  Golfin  it  was  suddenly  silent.  Be- 
yond a  doubt  the  mysterious  gnome,  who  was 
solacing  its  underground  loneliness  by  singing  its 
plaintive  loves,  had  taken  fright  at  this  rough  in- 
terruption by  a  human  being,  and  fled  to  the 
deepest  caverns  of  the  earth,  where  precious  gems 
lay  hidden,  jealous  of  their  own  splendor. 

"This  is  a  pleasant  state  of  things — "  mut- 
tered Golfin,  thinking  that  after  all  he  could  do  no 
better  than  light  his  cigar. — "  There  seems  no  rea- 
son why  it  should. not  go  on  for  a  hundred  years. 


MARIANELA.  7 

I  can  smoke  and  wait.  It  was  a  clever  idea  of 
mine  that  I  could  walk  up  alone  to  the  mines  of 
Socartes.  My  luggage  will  have  got  there  before 
me — a  signal  proof  of  the  advantages  of  'on, 
straight  on.'  ' 

A  light  breeze  at  this  instant  sprang  up,  and 
Golfin  fancied  he  heard  the  sound  of  footsteps  at 
the  bottom  of  the  unknown — or  imaginary — 
abyss  before  him ;  he  listened  sharply,  and  in  a 
minute  felt  quite  certain  that  some  one  was  walk- 
ing below.  He  stood  up  and  shouted : 

"  Girl,  man,  or  whoever  you  are,  can  I  get  to 
the  mines  of  Socartes  by  this  road  ?" 

He  had  not  done  speaking  when  he  heard  a 
dog  barking  wildly,  and  then  a  manly  voice  say- 
ing :  "  Choto,  Choto  !  come  here  !" 

"  Hi  there !"  cried  the  traveller.  "  My  good 
friend — man,  boy,  demon,  or  whatever  you  are, 
call  back  your  dog,  for  I  am  a  man  of  peace." 

"  Choto,  Choto ! " 

Golfin  could  make  out  the  form  of  a  large, 
black  dog  coming  towards  him,  but  after  sniffing 
round  him  it  retired  at  its  master's  call ;  and  at 
that  moment  the  traveller  could  distinguish  a  fig- 
ure, a  man,  standing  as  immovable  as  a  stone  im- 
age, at  about  ten  paces  below  him,  on  a  slanting 
pathway  which  seemed  to  cut  across  the  steep  in- 


8  MARIANELA. 

cline.  This  path,  and  the  human  form  standing 
there,  became  quite  clear  now  to  Golfin,  who, 
looking  up  to  the  sky,  exclaimed : 

"  Thank  God !  here  is  the  mad  moon  at  last ; 
now  we  can  see  where  we  are.  I  had  not  the 
faintest  notion  that  a  path  existed  so  close  to  me, 
why,  it  is  quite  a  road.  Tell  me,  my  friend,  do 
you  know  whether  the  mines  of  Socartes  are 
hereabout  ?" 

"  Yes,  Senor,  these  are  the  mines  of  Socartes ; 
but  we  are  at  some  distance  from  the  works." 

The  voice  which  spoke  thus  was  youthful  and 
pleasant,  with  the  attractive  inflection  that  indi- 
cates a  polite  readiness  to  be  of  service.  The 
doctor  was  well  pleased  at  detecting  this,  and 
still  better  pleased  at  observing  the  soft  light, 
which  was  spreading  through  the  darkness  and 
bringing  resurrection  to  earth  and  sky,  as  though 
calling  them  forth  from  nothingness. 

"  Fiat  lux  /"  he  said,  going  forward  down  the 
slope.  "  I  feel  as  if  I  had  just  emerged  into 
existence  from  primeval  chaos ....  Indeed,  my 
good  friend,  I  am  truly  grateful  to  you  for  the 
information  you  have  given  me,  and  for  the  far- 
ther information  you  no  doubt  will  give  me.  I 
left  Villamojada  as  the  sun  was  setting. — They 
told  me  to  go  on,  straight  on  .  ..." 


MARIANELA.  9 

"Are  you  going  to  the  works?"  asked  the 
strange  youth,  without  stirring  from  the  spot  or 
looking  up  towards  the  doctor,  who  was  now  quite 
near  him. 

"Yes,  Senor;  but  I  have  certainly  lost  my 
way." 

"  Well,  this  is  not  the  entrance  to  the  mines. 
The  entrance  is  by  the  steps  at  Rabagones,  from 
which  the  road  runs  and  the  tram-way  that  they 
are  making.  If  you  had  gone  that  way  you 
would  have  reached  the  works  in  ten  minutes. 
From  here  it  is  a  long  way,  and  a  very  bad  road. 
We  are  at  the  outer  circle  of  the  mining  galleries, 
and  shall  have  to  go  through  passages  and  tun- 
nels, down  ladders,  through  cuttings,  up  slopes, 
and  then  down  the  inclined  plane ;  in  short,  cross 
the  mines  from  this  side  to  the  other,  where  the 
workshops  are  and  the  furnaces,  the  machines  and 
the  smelting-house." 

"  Well,  I  seem  to  have  been  uncommonly  stu- 
pid," said  Golfin,  laughing. 

"  I  will  guide  you  with  much  pleasure,  for  I 
know  every  inch  of  the  place." 

Golfin,  whose  feet  sank  in  the  loose  earth, 
slipping  here  and  tottering  there,  had  at  last 
reached  the  solid  ground  of  the  path,  and  his  first 
idea  was  to  look  closely  at  the  good-natured  lad 


10  MARIANELA. 

who  addressed  him.  For  a  minute  or  two  he  was 
speechless  with  surprise. 

"  You  !"  he  said,  in  a  low  voice. 

"  I  am  blind,  it  is  true,  Senor,"  said  the  boy. 
"  But  I  can  run  without  seeing  from  one  end  to 
the  other  of  the  mines  of  Socartes.  This  stick  I 
carry  prevents  my  stumbling,  and  Choto  is  always 
with  me,  when  I  have  not  got  Nela  with  me,  who 
is  my  guide.  So,  follow  me,  Senor,  and  allow  me 
to  guide  you." 


CHAPTER  II. 

GUIDED    RIGHT. 

"  AND  were  you  born  blind  ?"  asked  Golfin, 
with  eager  interest,  arising  not  only  from  compas- 
sion. 

"Yes,  Senor,  born  blind,"  replied  the  lad,  with 
perfect  simplicity.  "  I  only  know  the  world  by 
fancy,  feeling  and  hearing.  I  have  learned  to  un- 
derstand that  the  most  wonderful  portion  of  the 
universe  is  that  which  is  unknown  to  me.  I  know 
that  the  eyes  of  other  people  are  not  like  mine, 
since  they  are  able  to  distinguish  things  by  them 
— but  the  power  seems  to  me  so  extraordinary, 


MARIANELA.  I  I 

that  I  cannot  even  imagine  the  possibility  of  its 
existence." 

"  Who  knows "  Golfin  began.     "  But  what 

strange  scene  is  this,  my  friend  ?     What  a  won- 
derful place  we  are  in  !" 

The  traveller,  who  had  been  walking  by  the 
side  of  his  companion,  stood  still  in  astonishment 
at  the  weird  view  which  lay  before  him.  They 
were  in  a  deep  basin  resembling  the  crater  of  a 
volcano;  the  ground  at  the  bottom  was  broken 
and  rough,  and  the  sloping  sides  still  more  so. 
Round  the  margin  and  in  the  middle  of  the  vast 
caldron,  which  looked  even  larger  than  it  was  in 
the  deceptive  chiaroscuro  of  the  moonlit  night, 
stood  colossal  figures,  deformed  caricatures  of 
humanity,  monsters  lying  prone  with  their  feet  in 
the  air,  with  arms  spread  in  despair,  stunted 
growths,  distorted  faces  such  as  we  see  in  the 
whimsical  wreathing  of  floating  clouds — but  all 
still,  silent,  and  turned  to  stone.  In  color  they 
were  mummy-like,  a  reddish  bistre ; 'their  action 
suggested  the  delirium  of  fever  arrested  by  sud- 
den death.  It  was  as  though  giant  forms  had 
petrified  in  the  midst  of  some  demoniacal  orgy, 
and  their  gestures  and  the  burlesque  grimaces  of 
the  monstrous  heads  had  been  stricken  into  fixity, 
like  the  motionless  attitudes  of  sculpture.  The 


12  MARIANELA. 

silence  which  prevailed  in  this  volcanic-looking 
hollow  was  itself  terrifying.  One  might  fancy 
that  the  cries  and  shrieks  of  a  thousand  voices 
had  been  petrified  too,  and  had  been  held  there 
locked  in  stone  for  ages. 

"  Where  are  we,  my  young  friend  ?"  asked 
Golfin.  "  This  place  is  like  a  nightmare." 

"This  part  of  the  mine  is  called  La  Terrible," 
replied  the  blind  boy,  not  appreciating  his  com- 
panion's frame  of  mind.  "  It  was  worked  till 
about  two  years  ago  when  the  ore  was  exhausted, 
and  now  the  mining  is  carried  on  in  other  parts 
which  are  more  profitable.  The  strange  objects 
that  surprise  you  so  much  are  the  blocks  of  stone 
which  we  call  cretdcea,  and  which  consist  of 
hardened  ferruginous  clay,  after  the  ore  has  been 
extracted.  I  have  been  told  that  the  effect  is 
sublime,  particularly  in  the  moonlight ;  but  I  do 
not  understand  such  things." 

"  A  wonderful  effect, — yes — "  said  the  stran- 
ger, who  still  stood  gazing  at  the  scene,  "  but 
which  to  me  is  more  terrible  than  pleasing,  for  it 
reminds  me  of  the  horrors  of  neuralgia. — Shall  I 
tell  you  what  it  is  like  ?  It  is  as  if  I  were  stand- 
ing inside  a  monstrous  brain  suffering  from  a  fear- 
ful headache.  Those  figures  are  like  the  images 
which  present  themselves  to  the  tortured  brain, 


MARIANELA.  13 

and  become  confounded  with  the  hideous  fancies 
and  visions  created  by  a  fevered  mind." 

"  Choto,  Choto,  here  !"  called  the  blind  lad. 
"  Take  care  now,  Senor,  how  you  walk ;  we  are 
going  into  a  gallery."  And,  in  fact,  Golfin  saw 
that  his  guide,  feeling  with  his  stick,  was  making 
his  way  towards  a  narrow  entrance  distinguished 
by  three  stout  posts. 

The  dog  went  in  first,  snuffing  at  the  black 
cavern;  the  blind  boy  followed  him  with  the  calm 
indifference  of  a  man  who  dwells  in  perpetual 
darkness.  Golfin  followed,  not  without  some  in- 
stinctive trepidation  and  repugnance  at  an  under- 
ground expedition. 

"  It  is  really  wonderful,"  he  said,  "  that  you 
should  go  in  and  out  of  such  a  place  without 
stumbling." 

"  I  have  lived  all  my  life  in  these  places,  and 
know  them  as  well  as  my  own  home.  Here  it  is 
very  cold ;  wrap  yourself  up  if  have  you  a  cloak 
with  you.  We  shall  soon  be  out  at  the  other 
end."  He  walked  on,  feeling  his  way  with  his 
hand  along  the  wall,  which  was  formed  of  upright 
beams,  and  saying: 

"  Mind  you  do  not  stumble  over  the  ruts  in 
the  path ;  they  bring  the  mineral  along  here  from 
the  diggings  above.  Are  you  cold  ?" 


14  MARIANELA. 

"  Tell  me,"  said  the  doctor,  gaily.  "  Are  you 
quite  certain  that  the  earth  has  not  swallowed  us 
up  ?  This  passage  is  the  gullet  of  some  mon- 
strous insectivorous  brute  into  whose  stomach  we 
miserable  worms  have  inadvertently  crept.  —  Do 
you  often  take  a  walk  in  this  delectable  spot  ?" 

"  Yes,  often,  and  at  all  hours,  and  I  think  the 
place  delightful.  Now  we  are  in  the  most  arid 
part — the  ground  here  is  pure  sand  —  now  we  are 
on  the  stones  again.  Here  there  is  a  constant 
drip  of  sulphurous  water,  and  down  there  we  have 
a  block  of  rock  in  which  there  are  petrified  shells. 
There  are  layers  of  slate  over  there.  Do  you  hear 
that  toad  croaking?  we  are  near  the  opening 
now ;  the  rascal  sits  there  every  night ;  I  know 
him  quite  well.  He  has  a  hoarse,  slow  voice." 

«  Who — the  toad  ?" 

"Yes,  Senor ;  we  are  near  the  end  now." 

"  So  I  see ;  it  looks  like  an  eye  staring  at  us 
— that  is  the  mouth  of  the  corridor." 

No  sooner  were  they  out  in  the  air  again,  than 
the  first  thing  that  struck  the  doctor's  ear  was  the 
same  melancholy  song  as  he  had  heard  before. 
The  blind  boy  heard  it  too ;  he  turned  round  to 
his  companion  and  said,  smiling  with  pride  and 
pleasure : 

"  Do  you  hear  her  ?" 


MARIANELA.  15 

"  I  heard  that  voice  before  and  it  charmed  me 
wonderfully.  Who  is  the  singer  ?" 

Instead  of  answering,  the  blind  boy  stopped 
and  shouted  with  all  the  force  of  his  lungs :  "  Nela ! 
Nela !"  and  the  name  was  repeated  by  a  hundred 
echoes,  some  quite  close,  others  faint  and  distant. 
Then,  putting  his  hands  to  his  mouth  for  a  speak- 
ing-trumpet, he  called  out : 

"  Do  not  come  to  me,  I  am  going  that  way. 
Wait  for  me  at  the  forge  —  at  the  forge  !" 

He  turned  to  the  doctor  again  and  explained  : 

"  Nela  is  a  girl  who  goes  about  with  me ;  she 
is  my  guide — my  Lazarillo.  When  it  was  dusk 
we  were  coming  home  together  from  the  great 
meadow — it  was  rather  cool,  so,  as  my  father 
forbids  my  walking  out  at  night  without  a  cloak, 
I  waited  in  Romolinos'  cabin,  and  Nela  ran  home 
to  fetch  it  for  me.  After  staying  some  little  time 
in  the  hut,  I  remembered  that  I  had  a  friend  com- 
ing to  see  me  at  home  and  I  had  not  patience  to 
wait  for  Nela,  so  I  set  out  with  Choto.  I  was  just 
going  down  La  Terrible  when  I  met  you.  We 
shall  soon  be  at  the  forge  now  and  there  we  must 
part,  for  my  father  is  not  pleased  when  I  go  home 
late,  and  Nela  will  show  you  the  way  to  the 
works." 

"  Many  thanks,  my  little  friend." 


16  MARIANELA. 

The  tunnel  had  brought  them  out  at  a  spot 
even  more  wonderful  than  that  they  had  left.  It 
was  an  enormous  gulf  or  chasm  in  the  earth,  look- 
ing like  the  result  of  an  earthquake ;  but  it  had 
not  been  rent  by  the  fierce  throbs  of  planetary  fires, 
but  slowly  wrought  by  the  laborious  pick  of  the 
miner.  It  looked  like  the  interior  of  a  huge  ship- 
wrecked vessel,  stranded  on  the  shore,  and  broken 
across  the  waist  by  the  breakers,  so  as  to  bend  it 
at  an  obtuse  angle.  You  could  fancy  you  saw  its 
ribs  laid  bare,  and  their  ends  standing  up  in  an 
irregular  file  on  one  side.  Within  the  hollow  hull 
lay  huge  stones,  like  the  relics  of  a  cargo  tossed 
about  by  the  waves,  and  the  deceptive  light  of  the 
moon  lent  so  much  aid  to  the  fancy  that  Golfin 
could  have  believed  that  he  saw  among  the  relics 
of  a  ship's  fittings,  corpses  half  devoured  by  fishes, 
mummies,  skeletons — all  dead,  silent,  half-de- 
stroyed and  still,  as  if  they  had  long  been  lying  in 
the  infinite  sepulchre  of  the  ocean  And  the  illu- 
sion was  perfect  when  he  presently  heard  a  sound 
of  waters,  and  a  regular  splash  like  the  dash  of 
ripples  in  the  hollow  of  a  rock,  or  through  the 
skeleton  timbers  of  a  wrecked  vessel. 

"There  is  water  hereabouts,"  he  said  to  his 
guide. 

"The    noise    you   hear,"  —  replied  the  other, 


MARIANELA.  I/ 

stopping,  —  "  and  which  sounds  like — what  shall  I 
say — like  the  gurgle  you  make  when  you  gargle 
your  throat  ?...." 

"  Exactly — and  where  is  that  gurgle  ?  Is  it 
some  rivulet  that  runs  near  here  ?" 

"  No,  Senor ;  over  there  to  the  left  there  is  a 
slope,  and  beyond  it  a  wide  mouth  opens  in  the 
ground,  a  cavern,  an  abyss  without  any  known 
bottom.  La  Trascava  they  call  it.  Some  say 
that  it  runs  down  to  the  sea  at  Ficobriga,  and 
others  think  that  a  river  flows  at  the  bottom  of  it 
which  goes  round  and  round,  like  a  wheel,  and 
never  comes  out  anywhere.  I  fancy  it  must  be 
like  a  whirlpool.  Some  again  say  that  down 
there  is  a  constant  gust  of  air  coming  out  of  the 
interior  of  the  earth — as  we  blow  when  we  whistle 
— and  that  this  blast  meets  a  current  of  water; 
then  they  quarrel,  and  struggle,  and  fight,  and  pro- 
duce that  noise  that  we  hear  up  here." 

"  And  has  no  one  ever  been  down  into  this 
cavern  ?" 

"  It  can  only  be  got  into  in  one  way." 

"  How  ?" 

"  By  jumping  into  it.  Those  who  have  gone 
in  have  never  come  out  again ;  and  it  is  a  great 
pity,  for  they  might  have  told  us  what  goes  on  in 
there.  The  other  end  of  the  cavern  is  a  long  way 


1 8  MARIANELA. 

off  from  this,  for  two  years  ago,  when  some  miners 
were  working  they  came  upon  a  rift  in  the  rock 
where  they  heard  the  very  same  sound  of  water 
as  you  hear  now.  This  rift  must,  no  doubt,  com- 
municate with  the  inside  galleries,  out  of  which 
the  blast  blows  and  into  which  the  water  rushes. 
By  daylight  you  can  see  it  plainly,  for  you  need 
only  go  a  few  steps  to  the  left  to  reach  the  spot 
and  there  is  a  comfortable  seat  there.  Some 
people  are  frightened  to  go  there,  but  Nela  and  I 
sit  there  to  listen  to  the  voice  down  inside  the 
cavern — for  really,  Sefior,  we  can  fancy  we  hear 
it  talking.  Nela  declares  and  swears  that  she 
hears  words,  and  can  distinguish  them  quite  plainly. 
I  must  confess  I  never  heard  any  words ;  but  it 
goes  on  murmuring  like  a  soliloquy  or  a  medita- 
tion, and  sometimes  it  is  sad  and  sometimes  gay 
— sometimes  angry,  and  sometimes  good-hu- 
mored and  jolly." 

"  And  yet  I  can  make  nothing  of  it  but  a 
gurgle,"  said  the  doctor  laughing. 

"  It  sounds  so  from  this  spot.  —  But  we  must 
not  stop  now,  it  is  getting  late.  You  must  be 
prepared  to  go  through  another  gallery." 

"  Another  ?" 

"  Yes — and  this  one  branches  off  into  two  in 
the  middle.  Beyond  that  there  is  a  labyrinth  of 


MARIANELA.  ig 

turns  and  zigzags,  because  the  miners  have  to 
make  galleries  which,  when  they  are  worked  out, 
are  deserted  and  left  to  their  fate.  Go  on  Choto." 

Choto  slipped  into  a  little  opening  that  looked 
scarcely  bigger  than  a  rabbit-hole,  followed  by  the 
doctor  and  his  guide,  who  felt  his  way  along  the 
dark,  narrow,  crooked  passage  with  his  stick. 
There  could  be  no  better  evidence  of  the  delicacy 
and  subtlety  of  the  sense  of  touch,  extending  be- 
yond the  skin  of  a  human  hand  through  a  piece 
of  senseless  wood.  They  went  forwards,  at  first 
in  a  curve,  and  then  round  corner  after  corner,  and 
all  the  way  between  walls  of  damp,  and  half-rot- 
ten planking. 

"  Do  you  know  what  this  reminds  me  of?"  said 
the  doctor,  perceiving  that  his  guide  took  pleasure 
in  similes  and  comparisons.  "  Of  nothing  so  much 
as  the  thoughts  of  perverse  man.  We  represent 
the  consciousness  of  evil,  when  he  looks  into  his 
conscience  and  sees  himself  in  all  his  vileness." 

Golfin  fancied  that  he  had  used  a  metaphor 
rather  above  his  companion's  comprehension;  but 
the  blind  boy  proved  that  he  was  mistaken,  for  he 
said  at  once : 

"  For  those  to  whom  that  inner  world  looks 
dark  and  gloomy,  these  galleries  must  be  dismal 
indeed ;  but  I,  who  live  in  perpetual  darkness,  find 


2O  MARIANELA. 

here  something  which  has  an  affinity  with  my  own 
nature.  I  can  walk  here  as  you  would  in  the 
broadest  road.  If  it  were  not  for  the  want  of  air 
in  some  parts  and  the  excessive  damp  in  others,  I 
should  prefer  these  subterranean  passages  to  any 
place  I  know." 

"That  is  an  idea  of  brooding  fancy." 

"  I  feel  as  if  there  were  in  my  brain  a  narrow 
passage — a  rabbit-hole — like  this  that  we  are 
walking  in,  and  there  my  ideas  run  riot  grandly." 

"  Ah  !  what  a  pity  that  you  should  never  have 
seen  the  azure  vault  of  the  sky  at  mid-day  !"  the 
doctor  exclaimed  involuntarily.  "Tell  me,  does 
this  dark  hole — in  which  your  ideas  run  riot  so 
grandly — lead  out  anywhere?" 

"  Oh  yes  !  we  shall  be  outside  quite  soon  now. 
The  vault  of  the  sky  you  said  —  I  fancy  it  must  be 
a  perfect,  equal  curve,  which  looks  as  if  we  could 
touch  it  with  our  hands,  but  we  cannot  really." 

As  he  spoke  they  got  out  of  the  tunnel ;  Gol- 
fin  drawing  a  deep  breath  of  relief,  like  a  man 
who  has  cast  off  a  burthen,  exclaimed  as  ha  looked 
up  at  the  heavens  : 

"Thank  God  that  I  see  you  once  more  stars 
of  the  firmament.  Never  have  you  seemed  to  me 
more  beautiful  than  at  this  moment." 

"  As  I  was  going  along,"  said  the  blind  boy, 


MARIANELA.  21 

holding  out  his  hand  which  held  a  stone,  "  I  picked 
up  this  piece  of  crystal — now  do  you  mean  to 
say  that  these  crystals,  which  to  my  touch  are  so 
sharply  cut,  so  smooth  and  so  neatly  packed  side 
by  side,  are  not  a  very  beautiful  thing  ?  They 
seem  so  to  me  at  any  rate."  And  as  he  spoke  he 
broke  off  some  of  the  crystals. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  said  the  doctor  with  great 
feeling  and  compassion,  "  it  is  sad  indeed  that  you 
should  not  be  able  to  know  that  this  stone  is  hardly 
worth  looking  at,  while  over  our  heads  there  hang 
the  myriads  of  marvellous  lamps  that  sparkle  in 
the  heavens."  The  boy  threw  back  his  head  and 
said  in  a  voice  of  deep  regret : 

"  Is  it  true  that  you  are  there,  you  little 
stars  ?" 

"  God  is  infinitely  great  and  merciful,"  said 
Golfin,  laying  his  hand  on  his  young  companion's 
shoulder.  "Who  knows — who  can  say — much 
stranger  things  have  happened — are  happening 
every  day."  As  he  spoke,  he  looked  close  into 
his  face,  trying  to  see  the  lad's  eyes  by  the 
dim  light;  fixed  and  sightless,  he  turned  them 
in  the  direction  in  which  he  heard  the  speaker's 
voice. 

"  There  is  no  hope,"  Golfin  muttered. 

They  had  come  out  on  an  open  space.     The 


22  MARIANELA. 

moon,  rising  higher  and  higher,  illuminated  un- 
dulating meadows  and  high  slopes,  which  looked 
like  the  ramparts  of  some  immense  fortification. 
— To  the  left,  on  a  level  plateau,  the  doctor  saw 
a  group  of  white  houses  crowning  the  slope. 

"  There,  to  the  left,"  said  the  boy,  "  is  my 
home — up  at  the  top.  Do  you  know  that  those 
three  houses  are  what  remain  of  the  village  of 
Aldeacorba  de  Suso.  All  the  rest  has  been  pulled 
down  at  different  times  in  order  to  dig  mines; 
all  the  soil  underneath  is  iron  ore,  and  our  fore- 
fathers lived  over  millions  of  wealth  without 
knowing  it." 

He  was  still  speaking  when  a  girl  came  run- 
ning to  meet  them,  a  tiny  scrap  of  a  child,  swift 
of  foot  and  slightly  built. 

"  Nela,  Nela  !"  cried  the  blind  boy.  "  Have 
you  brought  me  a  cloak  ?" 

"  Here  it  is,"  said  the  girl,  putting  it  over  his 
shoulders. 

"  Is  this  the  songstress  ?  Do  you  know  you 
have  a  lovely  voice  ?" 

"  Oh  !"  exclaimed  the  boy,  in  a  tone  of  inno- 
cent admiration,  "  she  sings  beautifully !  Now, 
Mariquilla,  you  must  show  this  gentleman  the  way 
to  the  works,  and  I  must  go  home.  I  can  hear 
my  father's  voice  already;  he  is  coming  to  look 


MARIANELA.  «3 

for  me,  and  he  will  be  sure  to  scold  me  ....  I  am 
here,  I  am  coming  !" 

"  Make  haste  in,  my  boy !"  said  Golfin,  shak- 
ing hands  with  him.  "  The  air  is  fresh,  and  you 
might  take  cold.  Many  thanks  for  your  company. 
I  hope  we  may  be  good  friends,  for  I  shall  be  here 
some  little  time.  I  am  the  brother  of  Carlos  Gol- 
fin, the  engineer  of  the  mines." 

"  Oh  !  indeed  ....  Don  Carlos  is  a  great  friend 
of  my  father's.  He  has  been  expecting  you  these 
two  days." 

"  I  arrived  this  evening  at  the  station  at  Villa- 
mojada,  and  they  told  me  that  Socartes  was  not 
far,  and  that  I  could  come  up  on  foot.  So,  as  I 
like  to  see  the  country  and  get  exercise,  and  as 
they  told  me  it  was  '  on,  straight  on,'  I  set  out, 
and  sent  my  luggage  in  a  cart.  You  saw  how  I 
had  lost  my  way — but  there  is  no  evil  out  of 
which  good  does  not  come ....  I  have  made  your 
acquaintance,  and  we  shall  be  friends,  very  good 
friends  perhaps.  Go  in,  good-bye;  get  home 
quickly,  for  the  autumn  evenings  are  not  good  for 
you.  The  little  Senora  here  will  be  so  good  as  to 
guide  me." 

"  It  is  not  more  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour's 
walk  to  the  works,  quite  a  short  way.  But  take 
care  not  to  stumble  over  the  rails,  and  look  out 


24  MARIANELA. 

as  you  cross  the  inclined  plane.  There  often  are 
trucks  on  the  road,  and  in  this  damp  weather  the 
ground  is  like  soap.  —  Good-bye,  Caballero,  and 
my  very  good  friend.  —  Good-night"  He  went 
up  the  slope  by  a  narrow  flight  of  steps  cut  in  the 
soil  and  squared  by  beams  of  wood ;  Golfin  went 
straight  on,  guided  by  Nela.  Does  what  they 
said  deserve  a  separate  chapter  ?  In  case  it 
should,  I  will  give  it  one. 


CHAPTER  III. 

A    DIALOGUE    WHICH   EXPLAINS   MUCH. 

"WAIT   a  moment    my  child,  do   not    go  so 

fast,"  said  Golfin,  himself  standing  still.      "  I  want 

,.,.,,  » 

to  light  a  cigar. 

The  night  was  so  still,  that  no  precautions  were 
needed  in  striking  the  light  to  guard  it  from  the 
wind,  and  when  the  doctor  had  lighted  his  cigar 
he  held  the  wax  match  in  front  of  Nela,  saying 
kindly : 

"Show  me  your  face,  little  one." 

He  looked  in  the  child's  face  with  astonish- 
ment ;  her  black  eyes  shone  with  a  red  spot,  like 
a  spark,  for  the  instant  while  the  match  lasted.  She 
looked  a  child,  for  she  was  but  a  tiny  creature,  ex- 


MARIANELA.      ,  2$ 

tremely  thin  and  undeveloped ;  but  she  seemed 
like  a  little  woman,  for  her  eyes  had  not  a  childlike 
expression,  and  her  face  had  the  mature  look  of  a 
nature  which  has  gone  through  experience  and 
acquired  judgment — or  will  have  acquired  it  soon. 
In  spite  of  this  anomaly,  she  was  well-proportioned 
and  her  small  head  sat  gracefully  on  her  lean  little 
body.  You  might  have  said  she  was  a  woman 
seen  through  a  diminishing-glass ;  or,  again,  that 
she  was  a  child  with  the  eyes  and  expression  of  a 
grown-up  person.  In  your  uncertainty,  it  was  hard 
to  say  whether  she  was  astonishingly  forward  or 
lamentably  backward. 

"  How  old  are  you  ?"  asked  Golfin,  shaking  his 
ringers  free  of  the  match  which  was  beginning  to 
burn  them. 

"They  say  I  am  sixteen,"  said  Nela,  gazing  in 
her  turn  at  the  doctor. 

"  Sixteen  !"  exclaimed  Golfin.  "  Much  less 
than  that,  child  !  You  are  twelve  at  most  to  judge 
by  appearances." 

"  Holy  Virgin  !  They  say  I  am  quite  a  phe- 
nomenon," said  the  girl  in  a  tone  of  weariness  of 
the  subject. 

"A  phenomenon!"  repeated  Golfin  laying  his 
hand  on  her  hair.  "  Well,  perhaps  so.  Now, 
come  along — show  me  the  way." 


26  MARIANELA. 

Nela  set  out  resolutely,  keeping  but  a  little  way 
in  front  of  the  traveller  but  rather  on  one  side 
of  him,  to  show  her  just  appreciation  of  such  illus- 
trious company.  Her  nimble  little  feet,  which  were 
bare,  were  evidently  familiar  with  the  ground  they 
trod,  with  the  stones,  the  puddles  and  the  thistles. 
She  wore  a  plain  frock  of  scanty  breadth,  and  the 
rudimentary  simplicity  of  her  garb,  as  well  as  the 
loose  flow  of  her  thick,  short  hair,  which  fell  in 
natural  waves,  had  a  stamp  of  savage  indepen- 
dence rather  than  of  abject  poverty.  Her  speech, 
on  the  other  hand,  struck  Golfin  by  its  modest 
propriety,,  indicating  a  formed  and  thoughtful 
mind.  Her  voice  had  a  gentle  inflection  of  kind- 
liness, which  could  not  be  the  result  of  education, 
and  her  glance  was  restless  and  shy,  whenever  she 
was  not  looking  at  the  sky  or  the  earth. 

"Tell  me,"  said  Golfin.  "Do  you  live  in  the 
mines  ?  Are  you  the  child  of  any  of  the  work- 
men employed  here  ?" 

"They  say  I  have  neither  father  nor  mother." 
"Poor  little  girl!  and  you  work  in  the  mines?" 
"  No,  Senor.     I  am  of  no  use  at  all,"  she  re- 
plied without  raising  her  eyes. 

"  Well,  you  are  modest,  at  any  rate." 
The  doctor  bent  down  to  look  closely  at  her 
face ;  it  was  small  and  freckled  all  over  with  little 


MARIANELA.  2/ 

mole-like  spots.  Her  forehead  was  narrow,  her 
nose  sharp  but  not  ill-shaped,  her  eyes  black  and 
brilliant,  but  their  light  shone  but  sadly.  Her  hair, 
naturally  of  a  golden  brown,  was  dull  for  want  of 
care,  and  from  exposure  to  the  sun,  wind  and 
dust.  Her  lips  were  so  thin  as  to  be  hardly  visible, 
and  always  wore  a  smile,  but  it  was  like  the  faint 
smile  of  the  dead  who  have  died  dreaming  of 
Heaven.  Nela's  mouth  was,  strictly  speaking, 
ugly,  still  it  deserved  a  word  of  praise  from  the 
point  of  view  expressed  in  the  line  from  Polo  de- 
Medina :  "  A  mouth  is  sweet  that  asks  for  noth- 
ing."* In  fact,  neither  in  word,  look,  or  smile,  did 
the  poor  child  betray  any  of  the  degrading  habits  of 
the  beggar.  Golfin  stroked  the  sad  little  face,  hold- 
ing it  under  the  chin  and  almost  encircling  it  with 
his  big  fingers. 

"  Poor  little  body  !"  he  said.  "  Providence  has 
not  been  over-generous  to  you.  Who  do  you  live 
with  ?" 

"With  Senor  Centeno,  the  overseer  of  the 
beasts  belonging  to  the  mines  ?" 

"You  do  not  seem  to  have  been  born  in 
luxury. — Who  were  your  parents?" 

"They  say  my  mother  sold  peppers  in  the 
market  at  Villamojada.  She  was  not  married. 

*  "  Es  tan  linda  su  boca  que  no  pide." 


28  MARIANELA. 

She  had  me  one  All-Saints'  day,  and  then  she 
went  to  be  wet-nurse  at  Madrid." 

"  A  highly  estimable  woman  !"  muttered  Gol- 
fin  ironically. 

"  And  no  one  knows  who  your  father  was  ?" 

"Yes,  Sefior,"  said  Nela  with  some  pride. 
"  My  father  was  the  first  who  ever  lighted  the 
lamps  of  Villamojada." 

"Wonderful!" 

"I  ought  to  tell  you,"  said  the  little  girl  with 
the  gravity  befitting  the  dignity  of  history,  "  that 
when  the  town  council  first  had  lamps  hung 
up  in  the  streets,  my  father  was  entrusted  with  the 
care  of  lighting  and  cleaning  them.  I  was  nursed 
by  a  sister  of  my  mother's — not  that  she  was 
married  either,  as  they  tell  me.  My  father  had 
quarrelled  with  her — they  all  lived  together  as  I 
have  heard — and  when  he  went  out  to  light  the 
lamps  he  used  to  put  me  in  his  basket,  with  his 
lamp-chimneys  and  cottons  and  oil.  One  day 
when  he  went  up  to  light  the  lamp  on  the  bridge, 
he  put  the  basket  on  the  parapet,  and  I  rolled  out 
and  fell  into  the  river." 

"  And  you  were  not  drowned  !" 

"  No,  Senor ;  for  I  fell  on  the  stones.  Holy 
Mother  of  God !  I  was  a  dear  little  thing  before 
that,  they  tell  me." 


MARIANELA.  29 

"Yes,  I  am  sure  you  were,"  said  the  stranger 
with  an  impulse  of  loving-kindness.  "  And  so  you 
are  still.  —  But  tell  me  what  next.  Have  you  lived 
long  in  the  mines  ?" 

"  Thirteen  years,  they  say.  My  motfrer  took 
me  back  after  my  tumble.  My  father  fell  ill,  and 
as  my  mother  would  not  do  anything  for  him,  be- 
cause he  was  wicked  to  her,  he  was  taken  to  the 
hospital  where  they  say  he  died.  Meanwhile  my 
mother  came  to  work  in  the  mines.  They  say 
the  overseer  discharged  her  one  day  because  she 
drank  so  much." 

"  And  your  mother  went ....  Go  on,  I  take  a 
real  interest  in  the  good  woman ;  she  went.  ..." 

"  She  went  to  a  very  big  hole  over  there,"  said 
the  child,  standing  still  and  speaking  with  intense 
pathos,  "  and  she  threw  herself  in." 

"  The  devil  she  did  !  That  was  coming  to  a 
bad  end.  I  suppose  she  did  not  come  out  again  ?" 

"  No,  Senor,"  said  Nela  with  perfect  simplicity. 
"  She  is  there  still." 

"  And  since  that  catastrophe,  poor  child,"  said 
Golfin  kindly,  "  you  have  stayed  at  work  here. 
Mining  work  is  very  hard  labor  and  you  have 
taken  the  hue  of  the  soil ;  you  are  thin  and  ill- 
nourished.  This  life  is  enough  to  ruin  the  strong- 
est constitution." 


30  MARIANELA. 

"  No,  Senor  ;  I  do  not  labor.  They  say  I  am 
not  good  for  anything  and  never  shall  be." 

"  God  forbid,  silly  child  !  why  you  are  a 
treasure." 

"  N<5  indeed,"  insisted  the  girl,  "  I  cannot  work 
at  all.  If  I  take  up  ever  so  small  a  load,  I  fall 
down,  and  if  I  am  set  to  any  hard  work  I  faint 
away  before  long." 

"You  are  as  God  made  you — and  if  you  fell 
into  the  hands  of  any  one  who  knew  how  to  treat 
you,  you  would  work  very  well." 

"  No,  Sefior,  no  indeed,"  she  repeated  as  en- 
ergetically as  though  it  were  in  her  own  praise 
that  she  spoke,  "  I  am  no  good  to  any  one — only 
in  the  way." 

"  Then  you  are  a  mere  vagabond  ?" 

"  No,  Senor,  for  I  attend  on  Pablo." 

"  And  who  is  Pablo  ?" 

"  That  young  blind  gentleman,  whom  you  met 
in  La  Terrible.  I  have  been  his  guide  for  the  last 
year  and  a  half.  I  take  him  everywhere ;  we  go 
for  long  walks  in  the  fields." 

"  He  seems  a  good  fellow,  this  Pablo." 

Nela  again  stood  still  and  looked  up  at  the 
doctor,  and  her  face  glowed  with  enthusiasm  as 
she  exclaimed : 

"  Holy  Virgin !     He  is  the  best  and  dearest 


MARIANELA.  31 

creature  in  the  whole  world  !  Poor  fellow! — and 
he  is  cleverer  without  eyes  than  all  those  who  can 
see." 

"  Yes,  I  liked  your  master.  Does  he  belong 
to  the  place  ?" 

"  Yes,  Senor ;  he  is  the  only  son  of  Don 
Francisco  Penaguilas,  a  very  kind  and  very  rich 
gentleman  who  lives  in  the  houses  at  Aldea- 
corba." 

"  Tell  me,  why  are  you  called  Nela  ?  What 
does  it  mean  ?" 

The  child  shrugged  her  shoulders,  and  after  a 
pause,  she  said : 

"  My  mother's  name  was  Maria  Canela,  and 
so  she  was  called  Nela;  they  say  it  is  a  dog's 
name.  My  name  is  Maria." 

"Mariquita." 

"  Maria  Nela  they  call  me,  or  sometimes  Ca- 
nela's  girl,  and  some  say  Marianela,  and  some 
merely  Nela." 

•  "  And  your  master,  is  he  fond  of  you  ?" 

"  Yes,  Senor ;  he  is  very  good  to  me.  He 
says  he  sees  with  my  eyes,  for  I  take  him  every- 
where, and  tell  him  what  everything  is  like." 

'  Everything  that  he  cannot  see  ?"  The 
stranger  seemed  much  interested  in  this  conver- 
sation. 


32  MARIANELA. 

"  Yes — I  tell  him  everything.  He  asks  me 
what  a  star  is  like,  and  I  tell  him  all  about  it  in 
such  a  way  that  it  is  the  same  to  him  as  if  he 
could  see  it.  I  explain  it  all — what  the  planets 
are  like,  and  the  clouds,  and  the  sky,  and  the 
water,  and  the  lightning,  the  weather- cocks,  the 
butterflies,  the  mists,  the  snails,  and  the  shapes 
and  faces  of  men  and  animals.  I  tell  him  what  is 
ugly  and  what  is  pretty,  and  so  he  gets  to  under- 
stand everything." 

"  I  see  ;  your  work  is  no  trifle.  What  is  ugly 
and  what  is  pretty !  There  is  nothing  ....  You 
decide  upon  that  question  ?  Tell  me,  can  you 
read  ?" 

"No,  Senor.— I  tell  you  I  am  good  for  noth- 

ing." 

She  said  this  in  a  tone  of  perfect  conviction, 
and  the  gesture  that  emphasized  her  protestation 
seemed  to  add :  "  You  must  be  a  great  blockhead 
to  fancy  that  I  am  good  for  anything." 

"  Would  you  not  be  glad  if  your  friend,  by 
the  grace  of  God,  should  recover  his  sight  ?" 

The  girl  did  not  answer  at  once,  but  after  a 
pause  she  said : 

"  It  is  impossible." 

"  No,  not  impossible,  only  difficult  and  doubt- 
ful." 


MARIANELA.  33 

/ "  The  engineer  who  manages  the  mines  did 
give  my  master's  father  some  hope  of  it." 

"  Don  Carlos  Golfin  ?" 

"  Yes,  Senor.  Don  Carlos  has  a  brother  who 
is  an  eye- doctor,  and  they  say  he  gives  sight  to 
the  blind,  and  makes  those  who  squint  look 
straight." 

"  What  a  clever  man  !" 

"  Yes  ;  and  when  the  eye-doctor  wrote  to  Don 
Carlos  that  he  was  coming  to  see  him,  his  brother 
wrote  to  him  to  bring  his  instruments  with  him  to 
try  if  he  could  make  Pablo  see." 

"  And  has  this  good  man  been  here  yet  ?" 

"  No,  sir ;  for  he  is  always  travelling  about  in 
England  and  America,  and  it  seems  it  will  be 
some  time  yet  -before  he  comes.  Pablo  laughs 
at  it  all,  and  says  no  man  can  give  him  what 
the  Holy  Virgin  has  denied  him  from  his 
birth." 

"Well — perhaps  he  is  right.  But  are  we  not 
nearly  there  ?  For  I  see  some  chimneys  which 
pour  forth  smoke  darker  than  the  bottomless  pit, 
and  a  light  too,  which  looks  like  a  forge." 

"  Yes — here  we  are.  Those  are  the  roasting 
furnaces,  which  burn  day  and  night.  There,  in 
front,  are  the  machines  for  washing  the  ore ;  they 
only  work  by  day.  To  the  right-hand  is  the 


34  MARIANELA. 

chemical  workshop,  and  down  there,  last  of  all, 
the  counting-house  and  offices." 

The  place  seemed  to  lie  in  fact  as  Marianela 
indicated.  In  the  absence  of  any  wind  a  mist 
hung  over  the  spot,  shrouding  the  buildings  in 
heavy,  gaseous  fog,  and  giving  them  a  confused 
and  fantastic  outline  against  the  moonlit  sky. 

"  This  is  a  pleasanter  place  to  see  for  once 
than  to  live  in,"  said  Golfin,  hastening  onwards. 
"  The  cloud  of  vapor  wraps  round  everything,  and 
the  lights  have  dim  circles  round  them,  like  the 
moon  on  a  sultry  night.  Which  is  the  office  ?" 

"  Here,  we  are  almost  there." 

After  passing  in  front  of  the  furnaces,  where 
the  heat  made  them  hurry  on,  the  doctor  per- 
ceived a  house  which  was  no  less  dingy  and 
smoky  than  the  others,  and  at  the  same  instant  he 
heard  a  piano  being  played  with  a  vigor  border- 
ing on  frenzy. 

"  We  have  music  here.  I  recognize  my  sister- 
in-law's  touch  and  execution." 

"  It  is  Senorita  Sofia  who  is  playing,"  said 
Maria. 

The  lights  of  a  busy  household  shone  in  the 
windows,  and  the  balcony  on  the  ground-floor 
was  wide  open.  A  small  spark  was  visible,  the 
spark  of  a  cigar.  Before  the  doctor  could  reach 


MARIANELA.  35 

I 

the  spot,  the  spark  flew  off,  describing  a  parabola 
of  fire,  and  breaking  into  a  thousand  twinkling 
specks — the  smoker  had  shaken  the  end  off. 

"There  is  that  everlasting  smoker!"  cried  the 
doctor,  in  a  tone  of  affectionate  delight.  "  Carlos, 
Carlos !" 

"  Teodoro !"  exclaimed  a  voice  from  the  bal- 
cony. The  piano  ceased  like  a  singing-bird  scared 
by  a  noise.  Steps  sounded  through  the  house. 
The  doctor  gave  his  guide  a  silver  coin,  and  ran 
up  to  the  door. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

STONY    HEARTS. 

RETRACING  her  steps  and  jumping  over  the 
obstacles  in  her  path,  Nela  made  her  way  to  a 
house  on  the  left  of  the  machine-sheds,  and  close 
to  the  stables  where  the  sixty  mules  belonging  to 
the  establishment  stood  in  grave  meditation.  The 
residence  of  the  overseer,  though  of  modern  con- 
struction, was  neither  elegant  nor  even  commodi- 
ous. The  roof  was  low,  and  it  was  too  small  by 
far  to  give  adequate  shelter  to  the  parent  couple 
of  the  Centenos  —  to  their  four  children — to  their 
cat — and  to  Nela  into  the  bargain  ;  but  it  figured, 


36  MARIANELA. 

nevertheless,  on  the  parchment  plans  of  the  settle- 
ment under  the  ostentatious  name  of  "  overseer's 
residence." 

Inside,  the  house  seemed  to  afford  a  practical 
illustration  of  the  saying  which  we  have  already 
heard  so  emphatically  stated  by  Marianela ; 
namely,  that  she,  Marianela,  was  of  no  good  to 
anyone,  only  in  the  way.  Somehow,  in  there, 
room  was  found  for  everything — for  the  father 
and  mother,  for  their  sons  and  their  sons'  tools, 
for  a  heap  of  rubbish,  of  the  use  of  which  no  irref- 
ragable proof  has  been  found,  for  the  cat,  for  the 
dish  off  which  the  cat  was  fed,  for  Tanasio's 
guitar,  for  the  materials  of  which  Tanasio  made 
his  garrotes — a  kind  of  lidless  hamper — for  half 
a  dozen  old  mule-halters,  for  the  blackbird's  cage, 
for  two  useless  old  boilers,  for  an  altar — at  which 
Dame  Centeno  worshipped  the  Divinity  with  offer- 
ings of  artificial  flowers  and  some  patriarchal  ta- 
pers, a  perennial  settlement  for  flies — in  short,  for 
everything  and  everybody  excepting  little  Maria 
Canela.  Constantly  some  one  was  heard  to  say  : 
"  You  cannot  take  a  step  without  falling  over  that 
confounded  child,  Nela  I"  or  else  : 

"  Get  into  your  corner,  do. — What  a  plague 
the  creature  is ;  she  does  nothing,  and  lets  no  one 
else  do  anything." 


MARIANELA.  37 

The  house  consisted  of  three  rooms  and  a  loft. 
The  first  of  these  served  not  only  as  dining-room 
and  drawing-room,  but  also  as  the  bedroom  of 
the  two  elders ;  in  the  second  slept  the  two  young 
ladies,  already  grown-up  women,  and  named  La 
Mariuca  and  La  Pepina.  Tanasio,  the  eldest  of 
all,  stored  himself  in  the  garret,  and  Celipin,  the 
youngest  of  the  family  and  nearly  twelve  years 
old,  had  a  bed  in  the  kitchen — the  innermost 
room,  the  dingiest,  dampest  and  least  habitable 
of  the  three  rooms  which  composed  the  mansion 
of  the  Centenos. 

Nela,  during  the  many  years  of  her  residence 
there,  had  inhabited  various  nooks  and  corners, 
going  from  one  to  another,  according  to  the  exi- 
gencies of  the  moment,  to  make  way  for  the  thou- 
sand objects  which  served  only  to  curtail  the  last 
scanty  accommodation  left  for  human  beings.  On 
some  occasion  —  the  precise  facts  are  unknown  to 
history — Tanasio,  whose  feet  were  as  crippled  as 
his  brain,  and  who  devoted  himself  to  the  manu- 
facture of  large  hampers  made  of  hazel  rods,  had 
placed  in  the  kitchen  a  pile  of  at  least  half  a  dozen 
of  these  bulky  trophies  of  his  art  Marianela 
looked  on,  casting  her  eyes  sadly  around,  and 
rinding  no  corner  left  into  which  to  creep ;  but 
the  predicament  itself  inspired  her  with  a  happy 


38  MARIANELA. 

idea,  which  she  at  once  acted  upon.  She  simply 
got  into  one  of  the  baskets,  and  there  passed  the 
night  in  sound  and  blissful  sleep.  In  fact,  it  was 
comfortable  enough,  and  when  it  was  cold  she 
pulled  another  basket  on  the  top.  From  that  time, 
so  long  as  there  were  garrotcs  (a  local  name  for 
these  coarse,  open  baskets)  to  be  found,  she  never 
was  at  a  loss  for  a  crib,  and  the  others  would  say 
of  the  child  :  "  She  sleeps  like  a  jewel." 

During  meals,  in  the  midst  of  a  noisy  discus- 
sion on  the  morning's  work,  a  voice  would  sud- 
denly say  in  rough  tones  :  "  Here  !"  and  Nela 
would  have  a  plate  given  her  by  one  of  the  family, 
big  or  small,  and  would  seat  herself  against  the  big 
chest  to  eat  what  she  had  got,  in  silence.  But  tow- 
ards the  end  of  the  meal  sometimes  the  master's 
harsh  bleating  voice  would  be  lifted  up  saying, 
with  a  perfunctory  air  of  benevolence  :  "  Mothe* ', 
you  have  given  poor  Nela  nothing."  And  then 
Senana,  a  compound  name  abbreviated  from 
Senora  Ana,  would  move  her  head  about  as  if  try- 
ing to  see  some  minute  and  remote  object  be- 
tween the  bodies  of  her  own  children,  saying  as 
she  did  so  :  "  What,  are  you  there  ?  I  thought 
you  had  stayed  at  Aldeacorba." 

At  night,  after  supper,  the  family  repeated  the 
Paternoster  over,  their  beads  and  then,  staggering 


MARIANELA.  39 

like  bacchantes,  and  rubbing  their  eyes  with  their 
fists,  Mariuca  and  Pepina  went  to  their  beds, 
which  were  snug  and  comfortable  and  covered 
with  patchwork  quilts.  In  a  few  minutes  a  duet 
of  contralto  snoring  was  heard  which  lasted  with- 
out intermission  till  morning  dawned.  Tanasio 
went  up  to  the  higher  regions  and  Celipin  curled 
himself  round  on  a  heap  of  rags,  not  far  from  the 
basket  into  which  Nela  disappeared  from  sight. 

The  family  thus  being  disposed  of,  the  parents 
sat  up  for  a  while  in  the  living-room,  and  while 
Centeno,  seating  himself  with  a  stretch  close  to 
the  little  table  and  taking  up  a  newspaper,  made  a 
series  of  grimaces  to  convey  his  bold  intention  of 
reading  it,  his  wife  took  a  stocking  full  of  money 
out  of  the  family  chest,  and  after  counting  it  and 
adding  or  taking  out  a  few  pieces,  carefully  re- 
stored it  to  its  place.  Then  she  took  out  sundry 
paper  packets  containing  gold  pieces  and  transfer- 
red some  from  one  parcel  to  another.  Meanwhile 
such  remarks  as  these  were  made.  "  Mariuca's 
petticoat  cost  thirty-two  reales.  I  gave  Tanasio 
the  six  reales  he  had  to  pay.  We  only  want  eleven 
duros*  to  make  up  the  five  hundred." 

Or,  on  the  other  hand  : 

*  A  Spanish  silver  coin,  equal  in  value  to  the  U.  S.  dollar. 


40  MARIANELA. 

"The  deputies  agreed."  —  "Yesterday  a  con- 
ference was  held,  etc.  ..." 

Senana's  fingers  did  her  sums,  while  her  hus- 
band's forefinger  passed  doubtfully  and  waver- 
ingly  along  the  lines,  to  guide  his  eye  and  mind 
through  the  labyrinth  of  letters.  And  these  sen- 
tences gradually  died  away  into  monosyllables ; 
one  yawned,  then  the  other,  and  at  last  all  sunk 
into  silence,  after  extinguishing  the  lamp  by  which 
the  overseer  of  the^mules  had  been  cultivating  his 
mind. 

One  night,  when  all  was  quiet,  a  creaking  of 
baskets  became  audible  in  the  kitchen.  It  was 
not  perfectly  dark  there,  for  the  shutters  of  the 
little  window  were  never  shut,  and  Celipin  Cen- 
teno,  who  was  not  yet  asleep,  saw  the  topmost 
baskets,  which  were  packed  one  inside  the  other, 
rising  slowly  like  a  gaping  oyster-shell,  and  out 
of  the  opening  peeped  the  nose  and  black  eyes  of 
Nela. 

"  Celipin,"  she  said,  "  Celipinillo,  are  you 
asleep  ?"  and  she  put  a  hand  out. 

"  No,  I  am  awake ;  Nela,  you  look  like  a  mus- 
sel in  its  shell.  What  do  you  want  ?" 

"  Here,  take  this,  it  is  a  peseta*  that  a  gentle- 
man gave  me  this  evening — the  brother  of  Don 

*  A  silver  coin  containing  two  reales. 


MARIANELA.  4! 

Carlos.  How  much  have  you  got  now  ?  This 
is  something  like  a  present ;  now  I  have  given 
you  something  better  than  coppers  !" 

"  Give  it  here  and  thank  you  very  much, 
Nela,"  said  the  boy,  sitting  up  to  reach  the  money. 
"You  have  given  me  nearly  thirty-two  reales 
now,  a  copper  at  a  time.*  I  have  it  all  safe  here, 
inside  my  shirt,  in  the  little  bag  you  gave  me. 
You  are  a  real  good  girl." 

"  I  do  not  want  money  for  anything ;  but 
take  good  care  of  it,  for  if  Senana  were  to  find  it, 
she  would  think  you  would  get  into  some  mischief 
xvith  it  and  thrash  you  with  the  big  stick." 

"  No,  no,  it  is  not  to  get  into  mischief,"  said 
the  boy  vehemently,  and  clenching  the  money  to 
his  breast  with  one  hand,  while  he  supported  him- 
self on  the  other.  "  It  is  to  make  myself  a  rich 
man,  Nela,  a  clever  man  like  some  I  know.  On 
Sunday,  if  they  will  let  me  go  to  Villamojada,  I 
must  buy  a  spelling-book  to  learn  to  read,  although 
they  will  not  teach  me  here.  Who  cares  !  I  will 
learn  by  myself.  Do  you  know,  Nela,  they  say 
that  Don  Carlos  is  the  son  of  a  man  who  swept 
the  streets  in  Madrid,  and  he,  all  by  himself,  learnt 
everything  he  knows." 

*  The  copper  piece  is  a  cttarto.  A  real  contains  34  maravedis 
and  is  worth  about  the  same  as  the  U.  S.  dime.  The  smallest  Spanish 
•coin  is  the  maravedi.  Four  maravedis  make  a  cuarto. 


42  MARIANELA. 

"  And  so  you  think  you  can  do  the  same, 
noodle." 

"  I  believe  you  !  If  father  will  not  take  me 
away  from  these  confounded  mines,  I  will  find 
some  other  way ;  ah  !  you  shall  see  what  sort  of 
a  man  I  am.  I  was  never  meant  for  that  Nela. 
You  just  wait  till  I  have  collected  a  good  sum,  and 
then  you  will  see — you  will  see  how  I  will  find  a 
place  in  the  town  there,  or  take  the  train  to 
Madrid,  or  a  steamboat  to  carry  me  over  to  the 
islands  out  there,  or  get  a  place  as  a  servant  to 
some  one  who  will  let  me  study." 

"  Dear  Mother  of  Heaven !"  exclaimed  Nela, 
opening  her  oyster-shell  still  wider  and  putting 
out  her  whole  head.  "  How  quiet  you  have  kept 
all  these  sly  plans." 

"  Do  you  take  me  for  a  fool  ?  I  tell  you  what 
Nela,  I  am  in  a  mad  rage.  I  cannot  live  like  this; 
I  shall  die  in  the  mines.  Drat  it  all !  Why,  I 
spend  my  nights  in  crying,  and  my  hands  are  all 
knocked  to  pieces  and — but  do  not  be  frightened, 
Nela,  at  what  I  am  going  to  say,  and  do  not  think 
me  wicked — I  would  not  say  it  to  any  other  living 
soul.  ..." 

"  Well  ?" 

"I  do  not  love  father  and  mother — not  as  I 
ought." 


MARIANELA.  43 

"  Oh  !  if  you  say  such  things  I  will  never  give 
you  another  real.  Celipin,  for  God's  sake,  think 
of  what  you  are  saying." 

"  I  cannot  help  it.  Why,  just  look  how  we 
go  on  here.  We  are  not  human  beings,  we  are 
brutes.  Sometimes  I  almost  "think  we  are  less 
than  the  mules,  and  I  ask  myself  if  I  am  in  any  way 
better  than  a  donkey — fetching  a  basket  of  the 
ore  and  pitching  it  into  a  truck ;  shoving  the 
truck  up  to  the  furnaces ;  stirring  the  mineral 
with  a  stick  to  wash  it !  —  Oh  dear,  oh  dear !"  .  .  . 
and  the  hapless  boy  began  to  sob  bitterly.  "  Drat 
— drat  it  all !  but  if  you  spend  years  upon  years 
in  work  like  this,  you  are  bound  to  go  to  the 
bad  at  last,  your  very  brains  turn  to  iron-stone. 
—  No,  I  was  never  meant  for  this.  I  tell  my  father 
to  let  me  go  away  and  learn  something,  and  he 
answers  that  we  are  poor,  and  that  I  am  too  full  of 
fancies. — We  are  nothing,  nothing  but  brutes 
grinding  out  a  living  day  by  day. — Why  do  you 
say  nothing?" 

But  Nela  did  not  answer — perhaps  she  was 
comparing  the  boy's  hard  lot  with  her  own,  and 
finding  her  own'  much  the  worse  of  the  two. 

"  What  do  you  want  me  to  say  ?"  she  replied 
at  last.  "  I  can  never  be  any  good  to  any  one — 
I  am  nobody.  I  can  say  , nothing  to  you.  .  .  . 


44  MARIANELA. 

But  do  not  think  such  wicked  things — about  your 
father  I  mean." 

"  You  only  say  so  to  comfort  me ;  but  you 
know  quite  well  it  is  true,  and  I  do  believe  you 
are  crying." 

"I no." 

"Yes,  you  are,  I  am  sure." 

"Everyone  has  something  to  cry  for,"  said 
Maria  in  a  broken  voice.  "  But  it  is  very  late, 
Celipin ;  we  must  go  to  sleep." 

"  No  indeed,  not  if  I  know  it !" 

"  Yes,  child ;  go  to  sleep  and  do  not  think  of 
such  miserable  things.  Good- night." 

The  shell  closed  and  all  was  silent. 

We  hear  a  great  deal  said  about  the  hard  and 
narrow  materialism  of  cities,  a  dry  rot  which,  amid 
all  the  splendor  and  pleasures  of  civilization,  eats 
into  the  moral  cohesion  of  society ;  but  there  is  a 
worse  and  deeper  disease ;  thg  parochial  material- 
ism of  country  villages — which  ossifies  millions  of 
living  beings,  crushes  every  noble  ambition  in 
their  souls  and  shuts  them  into  the  petty  round  of 
a  mechanical  existence,  reducing  them  to  the 
meanest  animal  instincts.  There  are  many  more 
blatant  evils  in  the  social  order  as,  for  instance, 
speculation,  usury,  the  worship  of  mammon 
among  men  of  high  culture ;  but  above  all  these, 


MARIANELA.  45 

broods  a  monster  which  secretly  and  silently  ruins 
more  than  all  else,  and  that  is  the  greed  of  the 
peasant.  The  covetous  peasant  acknowledges-. no .. 
moral  law,  has  no  religion,  no  clear  notions  of 
right  ana  wrong ;  they  are  all  inextricably  mixed 
up  in  his  mind  with  a  strange  compound  of  super- 
stition and  calculating  avarice.  Behind  an  air  of 
hypocritical  simplicity,  there  lies  a  sinister  arithme- 
tic which,  for  keenness  and  intelligibility,  far 
transcends  the  methods  of  the  best  mathematicians. 
A  peasant  who  has  taken  a  fancy  to  hoard  copper 
coin,  and  dreams  of  changing  it  presently  into  silver 
and  then  the  silver  into  gold,  is  the  most  ignoble 
creature  in  creation ;  he  is  capable  of  every  form 
and  device  of  malice  known  to  man,  combined 
with  an  absence  of  feeling  that  is  appalling.  His 
soul  shrinks  and  shrivels  till  it  is  nothing  more 
than  a  minim  measure.  Ignorance,  coarseness, 
and  squalor  complete  the  abominable  compound 
and  deprive  it  of  all  the  means  of  veiling  the  deso- 
lation within.  He  can  only  count  on  his  fingers, 
but  he  is  capable  of  reducing  to  figures  all  moral 
sense,  conscience  and  the  soul  itself. 

Senana  and  Centeno,  who,  after  many  strug- 
gles, had  contrived  to  earn  their  "  morsel  of  bread" 
in  the  mines  of  Socartes,  were  able  to  make,  with 
the  added  toil  of  their  four  children,  a  daily  wage 


46  MARIANELA. 

which  they  would  have  regarded  as  a  princely  for- 
tune in  the  days  when  they  wandered  from  fair  to 
fair  selling  pots  and  pipkins.  It  should  be  men- 
tioned with  regard  to  the  intellectual  powers 
of  Centeno,  that  his  head,  in  the  opinion'  of  many 
persons,  rivalled  the  steam-hammer  in  the  work- 
shops for  sheer  hardness ;  with  no  disparagement 
to  that  of  dame  Ana,  his  wife,  who  seemed  to 
be  a  woman  of  much  prudence  and  discrimination, 
and  who  governed  her  household  as  carefully  as 
the  wisest  prince  could  govern  his  dominions.  She 
bagged  the  wages,  earned  by  her  husband  and 
children,  with  the  best  grace  in  the  world,  and  they 
amounted  to  a  neat  little  sum ;  and  each  time  the 
money  was  brought  home,  she  felt  as  if  the  very 
sacrament  itself  were  being  carried  in,  so  intense 
was  her  delight  at  the  mere  sight  of  coin. 

Senana  afforded  her  children  very  little  com- 
fort in  return  for  the  fortune  she  was  accumulating 
by  the  labor  of  their  hands  ;  however,  as  they 
never  complained  of  the  utter  and  debasing 
misery  in  which  they  lived,  as  they  betrayed  no 
wish  for  emancipation,  nor  for  a  breath  of  any 
nobler  life  worthier  of  intelligent  beings,  Senana 
let  the  days  slip  on.  Many  indeed  had  slipped 
away  before  her  children  slept  in  beds,  and  many, 
many  more  before  their  brawny  limbs  were  covered 


MARIANELA.  47 

with  decent  garments.  She  gave  them  regular  and 
wholesome  meals,  following  in  this  respect  the 
rules  most  in  vogue ;  but  eating  in  her  house  was 
a  melancholy  ceremony  nevertheless,  a  mere  doling 
out  of  fodder,  as  it  were,  to  human  animals. 

So  far  as  mental  nourishment  was  concerned, 
Senana  firmly  believed  that  her  husband's  erudi- 
tion, acquired  by  much  miscellaneous  reading, 
was  amply  sufficient  to  credit  the  whole  family 
with  learning,  and  for  that  reason  she  forbore  to 
cram  the  minds  of  her  progeny  even  with  the 
amount  of  instruction  which  is  given  in  schools. 
The  elder  ones  helped  her,  and  the  youngest  lived 
free  of  pedagogues,  buried  alive  for  twelve  hours 
out  of  every  twenty-four  in  brutalizing  toil  in  the 
mines,  so  that  the  whole  family  swam  at  large  and 
at  leisure  in  the  vast  and  stagnant  ocean  of  dul- 
ness. 

The  two  girls,  Mariuca  and  Pepina,  were  not 
destitute  of  charms,  though  youth  and  robust 
growth  were  the  chief.  One  of  them  read  fluently, 
but  not  the  other,  and,  so  far  as  knowledge  of  the 
world  was  concerned,  it  is  easy  to  suppose  that 
some  rudimentary  information,  at  least,  was  not 
lacking  to  girls  who  lived  with  a  perfect  chorus  of 
nymphs  of  all  ages  and  every  grade  of  respect- 
ability—  or  the  contrary — perpetually  employed 


48  MARIANELA. 

in  mechanical  work  which  left  their  tongues  free 
to  wag.  Mariuca  and  Pepina  were  buxom  and 
well  grown,  and  as  erect  and  strong  as  Amazons. 
They  wore  short  petticoats,  displaying  half  the  calf 
of  the  leg  which,  as  well  as  their  broad  feet,  was 
bare,  and  their  rough  heads  might  have  supported 
an  architrave  as  stoutly  as  those  of  Caryatides. 
The  russet  dust  of  the  iron  ore  which  colored  them 
from  head  to  foot,  like  all  in  the  mines,  gave  them 
the  appearance  of  massive  figures  in  terra-cotta. 

Tanasio  was  a  lethargic  being;  his  want  of 
character  and  ambition  verged  on  idiocy.  Con- 
fined to  the  house  from  his  earliest  years,  inca- 
pable of  taking  any  exercise,  of  feeling  either 
annoyance  or  pleasure,  or  of  fulfilling  any  task, 
the  boy,  who  was  born  to  be  a  machine,  had  sunk 
into  something  not  superior  to  the  roughest  tool. 
The  day  which  found  such  a  creature  able  to  orig- 
inate an  idea,  would  infallibly  see  the  total  subver- 
sion of  the  order  of  nature;  for,  hitherto,  no  stone 
has  been  known  to  think. 

The  relation  of  this  family  to  their  mother  was 
that  of  abject  submission  on  their  part,  and  unlim- 
ited despotism  on  hers.  The  only  child  who 
ever  dared  to  show  symptoms  of  rebellion  was  the 
little  one.  Senana,  with  her  narrow  capacities, 
could  not  at  all  understand  this  diabolical  ambi- 


MARIANELA.  49 

tion  to  be  something  better  than  a  stone.  Was 
there — did  he  suppose — any  happier  or  more 
exemplary  life  than  that  of  a  stone  ?  She  would 
not  admit  that  it  might  be  changed,  even  for  that 
of  a  rolling  stone.  Senana  loved  her  children  — 
but  there  are  so  many  ways  of  loving.  She  placed 
them  above  every  other  consideration  - — so  long 
as  they  submitted  to  work  perpetually  in  the 
mines,  to  pour  all  their  earnings  into-  one  bowl,  to 
obey  her  blindly,  to  cherish  no  wild  aspirations 
nor  wish  to  appear  in  fine  clothes,  not  to-  marry  too 
young,  nor  to  learn  any  mischievous  trash  and 
cram  their  heads  with  school-work,  since  "  poor 
folks" — she  would  say — "must  always  remain  poor 
and  behave  as  such,  and  not  be  wanting  to  jabber 
in  the  style  of  the  rich  city  folks,  who  were  eaten 
up  with  vices  and  rotten  with  sin." 

I  have  described  the  manners  and  customs 
which  prevailed  in  the  Centeno's  house  in  order 
that  the  reader  may  understand  the  life  to  which 
Nela  was  doomed,  a  helpless,  forsaken  creature, 
alone,  useless,  incapable  of  earning  a  day's  wages  ; 
alike  without  a  past  and  without  a  future,  with  no 
right  to  anything  on  earth  beyond  a  bare  subsist- 
ence. Senana  gave  her  this,  and  firmly  believed 
that  her  generosity  was  nothing  short  of  heroic. 
Many  a  time  would  she  say,  as  she  filled  Nela's 


50  MARIANELA. 

little  platter :  "  What  a  reward  I  am  laying  up  for 
myself  hereafter  in  Heaven  !"  And  she  believed 
it  as  if  it  were  Gospel.  No  true  light  could  pene- 
trate her  thick  skull  as  to  the  saintly  exercise  of 
charity ;  she  could  never  have  understood  that  a 
kind  word,  a  caress,  a  loving  and  gentle  action, 
which  may  make  a  wretch  forget  his  misery,  are 
infinitely  more  precious  —  aye,  and  more  heroic 
— than  the  broken  meat  left  from  a  bad  meal.  It 
was  but  a  chance  that  she  did  not  give  them  to 
the  cat,  who,  at  least,  was  far  more  kindly  spoken 
to.  Nela  never  heard  herself  addressed  as  mi- 
chita,  little  pet,  precious  darling — nor  by  any 
other  of  the  sweet  and  endearing  names  that  were 
lavished  on  the  cat. 

Nothing  ever  suggested  to  Nela  that  she  was 
born  of  human  beings,  like  the  other  inhabitants  of 
the  house.  She  was  never  punished  ;  but  she  felt 
that  this  immunity  arose  from  their  contemptuous 
pity  for  her  feeble  frame,  and  certainly  not  from 
any  special  esteem  or  care  for  her  person.  No 
one  had  ever  taught  her  that  she  had  a  soul  ready 
to  bring  forth  good  fruit  if  she  cultivated  it  with 
care,  nor  that  she  bore  within  herself,  like  other 
mortals,  that  spark  of  the  divine  fire  which  is 
called  human  intelligence,  and  that  this  spark 
might  be  fanned  to  beneficent  light  and  flame.  No 


MARIANELA.  51 

one  had  ever  told  her  that  her  grotesque  small- 
ness  included  in  itself  the  germ  of  every  noble 
and  delicate  sentiment,  and  that  those  tiny  buds 
might  open  out  to  lovely  flowers,  with  no  more 
cultivation  than  a  herb  that  we  glance  at  now  and 
again.  No  one  had  told  her  that  she  had  a  right, 
by  the  very  sternness  of  Nature  in  creating  her,  to 
certain  tender  cares  which  the  strong  can  dispense 
with — the  healthy  and  those  who  have  parents 
and  a  home ;  since  under  the  laws  of  Christian 
jurisprudence  the  helpless,  the  poor,  the  orphan, 
and  the  destitute,  are  all  alike  worthy  of  protection. 
On  the  other  hand,  everything  combined  to 
impress  upon  her,  her  absolute  resemblance  to  a 
rolling  stone,  which  has  not  even  a  shape  of  its 
own,  but  takes  that  which  the  waters  give  it  or 
the  kick  of  the  man  that  spurns  it.  Everything 
told  her  that  her  place  in  the  house  was  something 
below  the  cat,  whose  sleek  back  received  the  only 
caresses  ever  bestowed  on  anyone,  and  the  black- 
bird that  hopped  about  its  cage.  And  of  them, 
at  any  rate,  no  one  said  in  heartless  compassion : 
"  Poor  creature  !  it  is  a  pity  she  did  not  die  !" 


52  MARIANELA. 


CHAPTER  V. 

LABOR   AND   A    LANDSCAPE   WITH    FIGURES. 

THE  smoke  of  the  furnaces,  which  all  night 
through  were  wide  awake  and  panting  out  their 
hot,  hoarse  breath,  caught  a  silvery  gleam  as  its 
wreaths  rolled  into  the  distance  ;  the  faint  smile  of 
dawn  fell  upon  the  remotest  peaks  of  the  moun- 
tains, and,  by  degrees,  the  hills  that  guard  Socartes 
came  out  of  the  darkness,  the  huge  slopes  of  rust- 
colored  earth  and  the  blackened  buildings.  The 
bell  of  the  works  rang  out  shrilly  its  call  "  to  work, 
to  work,"  and  hundreds  of  sleepy  souls  came  out 
of  the  houses,  huts,  hovels,  holes  even.  Doors 
creaked  on  their  hinges ;  the  mules  came  reluc- 
tantly out  of  the  stables,  making  their  way  to  their 
watering-place,  and  the  whole  establishment, 
which  had  just  now  looked  like  a  city  of  the  dead 
lighted  up  by  the  infernal  glare  of  the  furnaces, 
came  to  life  and  began  to  stir  its  thousand  arms. 

The  steam  soon  was  seething  in  the  boilers 
of  the  great  steam-engine,  which  supplied  the 
motive  power  both  for  the  workshops  and 
the  washing-mills.  The  water,  which  performed 
the  principal  part  in  the  operations,  began 


MARIANELA.  53 

to  flow  through  the  raised  conduits  from 
which  it  fell  on  the  cylinders.  Files  of  men 
and  women  just  risen  from  their  beds,  made  their 
way  down  to  the  scene  of  labor,  and  at  length  the 
cylindrical  sieves  began  to  revolve  with  hideous 
groaning ;  the  water  rushed  from  one  to  the  other, 
pulverizing  the  dark  earth  which  tumbled  on  in 
muddy  eddies  and  cataracts,  from  trough  to  trough, 
till  it  settled  at  last  in  a  fine  chocolate-brown  pow- 
der. The  sound  was  as  of  a  thousand  hungry 
jaws  chewing  grit  and  sand ;  the  play  of  light  on 
water  and  soil  made  it  as  dazzling  as  a  kaleido- 
scope, and  the  clatter  was  like  some  enormous 
hollow  drum,  filled  with  pebbles  and  potsherds. 
It  was  impossible  to  look  on  without  turning 
giddy  at  the  incessant  whirl  of  a  vast  skein,  as  it 
were,  of  threads  of  water,  some  clear  and  transpar- 
ent, others  stained  red  by  the  ferruginous  clay;  nor 
could  any  human  brain  that  was  not  accustomed 
to  the  spectacle,  picture  to  itself  this  mad  struggle 
of  toothed  wheels  which  never  ceased  biting  at 
each  other,  of  cogs,  that  .met,  and  caught,  and 
rolled  away  again,  of  screws  which,  as  they  turned, 
shrieked  in  pitiless  clamor  for  oil. 

The  washing  was  all  done  in  the  open  air. 
The  connecting  belts  came  humming  down  from 
the  machinery  sheds ;  other  belts  began  to  re- 


54  MARIANELA. 

volve,  and  at  the  same  time  a  rhythmical  stamp- 
ing was  heard,  a  slow  and  awful  tramp  like  a 
giant's  step,  or  a  fearful  throbbing  inside  mother 
earth.  This  was  the  great  hammer  which  had  be- 
gun to  beat ;  its  stupendous  blows  moulded  the 
iron  like  a  paste,  and  those  huge  wheels,  and 
beams,  which  look  as  if  made  to  last  forever,  be- 
gan to  twist  and  writhe  like  the  limbs  of  men  in 
torment,  while  the  hammer,  with  its  monotonous 
impact,  created  new  forms  as  strong  as  the  rocks 
which  are  the  work  of  ages.  For  the  results  of  labor 
have  a  strange  resemblance  to  the  results  of  patience. 
Men  so  black,  that  they  look  like  hewn  and 
animated  coal,  gathered  round  the  fiery  objects 
that  were  taken  from  the  forges,  and  seizing  them 
with  those  prolonged  hands  known  as  tongs, 
set  to  work  to  hammer  them.  It  is  a  strange 
kind  of  sculpture,  this,  which  has  fire  for  its  in- 
spiring genius  and  a  steam-hammer  for  its  chisel. 
Wheels  and  axle-trees  for  thousands  of  trucks,  and 
the  damaged  portions  of  the  washing-machinery, 
were  repaired  here,  and  picks,  spades  and  barrows 
were  made.  At  the  back  of  the  workshops  saws 
hissed  through  blocks  of  timber,  and  the  iron, 
which  had  been  formed  for  labor  by  fire  of  wood, 
now  cut  through  the  sturdy  fibre  of  trees  hewn  by 
the  axe  from  their  native  spot. 


MARIANELA.  55 

Meanwhile,  the  mules  had  been  harnessed  to 
long  trains  of  trucks  which  carried  off  the  waste 
earth  to  add  it  to  the  slopes  already  made,  or 
fetched  the  mineral  to  be  washed.  They  looked 
like  immense  reptiles,  crawling  up  and  down  to 
meet  each  other,  and  always  passing  close  but  with- 
out any  jar  or  collision.  They  crept  into  the 
mouths- of  the  tunnels,  and  their  resemblance  was 
really  perfect  to  the  wriggling  creatures  that  shel- 
ter in  such  damp  clefts  and  caves ;  and  when  the 
recalcitrant  mules  kicked  and  shied  in  the  bowels 
of  the  earth,  it  was  easy  to  fancy  the  Saurians  were 
fighting  and  screaming  at  each  other.  In  the 
deepest  recesses  of  all,  hundreds  of  men  were 
tearing  up  the  earth  with  picks,  inch  by  inch,  to 
win  the  hidden  treasure ;  these  were  the  sculptors 
of  the  strange  and  enormous  figures  which  stood 
in  awful  gravity  and  silence  to  confront  the  man 
who  should  venture  to  invade  their  mysterious  do- 
main. The  miners  hewed  down  here,  bored  holes 
there,  dug  farther  on  in  one  place,  scraped  down 
the  wall  in  another,  broke  up  the  limestone,  chip- 
ped out  the  pretty  flakes  of  mica  and  shale, 
pounded  down  the  calcareous  clay,  picked  out  the 
hematite  and  pyrites,  crushed  the  fine,  white 
marble  —  rolling  and  stirring  it  incessantly  till  it 
should  yield  zinc  silicate — for  zinc  may  be  called 


56  MARIANELA. 

the  silver  of  Europe,  which,  being  a  metal  of 
which  you  cannot  make  saucepans,  is  destined 
to  become  the  fount  of  wealth  and  civilization. 
Is  it  not  on  zinc  that  Belgium  has  hoisted  her 
standard  of  moral  and  political  greatness  ?  Aye, 
tin  even  has  its  epic ! 

The  sky  was  clear  and  bright ;  the  sun  rose 
unclouded  on  the  scene,  and  the  wide  settlement 
of  Socartes  flashed  from  dark  neutrality  into  red- 
ness. The  sculptured  rocks,  the  heaps  of  ore,  the 
hillocks  of  waste  soil  that  rose  on  every  side  like 
Babylonian  mounds,  were  red ;  the  ground,  the 
trucks  and  carts,  the  machinery,  the  water  and  the 
laborers  that  gave  life  to  Socartes.  The  brick- 
colored  tone  was  universal,  with  faint  shades  of 
difference  in  the  earth  and  the  houses,  the  metal 
and  the  people's  garments.  The  women  at  work 
at  the  washing  looked  like  a  crowd  of  nymphs, 
come  down  in  the  world,  and  cast  in  red  iron- 
stone. A  rivulet  of  crimson  fluid  ran  through  the 
bottom  conduit  to  join  a  crimson  river — you 
might  fancy  it  the  sweat  of  these  toiling  men  and 
machines,  of  muscles  and  of  iron. 

Nela  stepped  out  of  the  house.  Even  she, 
though  she  did  not  work  in  the  mines,  was  faintly 
tinged  with  the  universal  ruddle,  for  the  finely- 
powdered  metal  spared  no  one.  In  her  hand  she 


MARIANELA.  57 

held  a  hunch  of  bread  which  Senana  had  given 
her  for  breakfast,  and  as  she  eat  it  she  walked  on 
quickly,  lost  in  thought  and  not  lingering  to  amuse 
herself.  She  had  soon  passed  the  workshops  and, 
going  up  the  inclined  plane  and  the  steps  before 
mentioned,  she  reached  the  houses  of  Aldeacorba. 
The  first  of  these  was  a  handsome  and  stately 
mansion,  large,  well-built,  and  cheerful  looking, 
but  lately  restored  and  painted ;"  with  stone 
boundary  walls,  decorated  eaves  and  a  broad 
escutcheon  surrounded  by  granite  foliage.  And 
the  escutcheon  itself  would  be  less  missed  than  the 
climbing  vine,  whose  long  and  leafy  branches 
looked  like  whiskers — growing,  as  whiskers  do, 
on  each  side  of  a  face,  of  which  the  two  windows 
served  as  eyes,  while  the  escutcheon  was  the  nose 
and  the  long  balcony  the  mouth,  always  widely 
grinning.  And  to  complete  this  whimsical  air  of 
personality,  a  beam  stuck  out  from  the  balcony  in- 
tended to  attach  a  rope  to  support  an  awning,  and 
with  this  addition  the  face  was  seen  as  smoking  a 
cigar.  The  roof  was  in  the  shape  of  a  cap  and  in  it 
there  was  a  window  that  might  represent  the  tas- 
sel. The  chimneys  could  only  be  the  ears.  It  was 
one  of  those  faces  in  which  a  physiognomist  reads 
plainly,  peace  of  mind,  ease  of  circumstance  and  a 
quiet  conscience. 


$8  MARIANELA, 

In  front  of  it  was  a  little  court-yard  en- 
closed by  a  wall  of  adobe,  and  on  one  side  was 
a  pretty  orchard.  As  Nela  went  in  she  met  the  cows 
coming  out  to  pasture,  and  after  exchanging  a  few 
words  with  their  driver — a  formidable  youth, 
about  four  feet  high  and  ten  years  old — she  went 
straight  up  to  a  stout  gentleman,  whiskered,  grey- 
haired  and  florid,  with  a  kind  face  and  pleasant 
smile,  and  a  half-military  and  half-rustic  air; 
he  was  in  his  shirt  sleeves  and  braces,  and  his 
hairy  arms  were  bared  to  the  elbow.  Before  the 
little  girl  addressed  him,  he  looked  up  at  the  house 
and  called  out :  "  Here  is  Nela,  my  boy  !" 

A  lad  at  once  made  his  appearance,  remarka- 
bly tall,  grave  and  erect,  his  head  held  somewhat 
stiffly  and  his  eyes  fixed  and  vacant  like  lenses. 
His  face  was  like  marble,  carved  with  exquisite 
sharpness,  and  his  skin  was  as  fine  and  soft  as  a 
girl's ;  there  was  not  a  feature  or  a  line  which  was 
not  of  that  supremely  beautiful  type  of  manliness 
which  was  the  outcome  of  a  thousand  years  of 
Hellenic  thought.  Those  eyes  even,  so  purely 
sculpturesque  in  their  lack  of  sight,  were  large, 
grand  and  brilliant.  Their  fixity  lost  its  strange- 
ness when  you  remembered  that  behind  them  all 
was  night.  In  the  absence  of  the  faculty  which  is 
the  cause  and  origin  of  facial  expression,  this  blind 


MARIANELA.  59 

Antinous  had  the  cold  serenity  of  marble,  endowed 
with  form  by  the  genius  of  sculpture  and  with  life  by 
a  vital  spark.  A  breath,  a  ray  of  warmth,  a  mere 
sensation  would  suffice  to  animate  the  beautiful 
stone  which,  while  it  possessed  every  charm  of 
form,  was  devoid  of  that  consciousness  of  its  own 
beauty,  which  is  born  of  the  faculty  of  seeing  it 
He  looked  about  twenty,  and  his  strong  and 
graceful  frame  was  in  every  respect  worthy  of  the 
incomparable  head  that  crowned  it.  Never  was  a 
more  lamentable  injustice  done  by  Nature,  than  to 
this  perfect  example  of  humanity  as  to  beauty, 
blest,  on  one  hand,  with  every  gift,  and  bereft,  on 
the  other,  of  the  sense  by  which  man  has  most 
in  common  with  his  fellow-man  and  gains  familiar- 
ity with  all  the  marvels  of  creation  at  large.  The 
injustice  was  such,  that  these  splendid  gifts  were 
useless — it  was  as  though  after  creating  all  things 
the  Creator  had  left  them  in  darkness,  so  that  he 
could  not  himself  take  pleasure  in  his  works.  And 
to  make  the  privation  more  conspicuous,  the  young 
man  had  mental  lights  of  the  highest  order  and  a 
very  superior  intelligence.  To  have  this  and  to 
lack  the  faculty  of  conceiving  the  idea  of  visibility, 
of  form  as  distinct  from  mere  matter,  and  at  the 
same  time  to  be  as  beautiful  as  an  angel ;  to  have 
all  the  faculties  of  a  man  and  be  as  blind  as  a 


60  MARIANELA. 

vegetable  !  It  was  strange  and  hard.  We,  alas  ! 
know  not  the  secret  of  these  terrible  injustices  ;  if 
we  did,  then- -indeed  the_gates  would  be  open  to  us 
which  hide  the  primordial  secrets  of  moral  and 
physical  duty;  we  should  understand  the  fathom- 
less mysteries  of  inherited  woe,  of  evil  and  of 
death,  and  might  take  measure  of  the  dark  shadow 
which  always  haunts  life  and  all  that  is  good  in  it. 

Don  Francisco  Penaguilas,  the  young  man's 
father,  was  more  than  good,  he  was  admirable ; 
judicious,  kind,  genial,  honorable  and  magnani- 
mous, and  well  educated  too.  No  one  disliked 
him ;  he  was  the  most  respected  of  all  the  .rich 
land-owners  in  the  country  side,  and  more  than 
one  delicate  question  had  been  settled  by  the 
mediation  —  always  equitable  and  intelligent — of 
the  Sefwr  de  Aldeacorba  de  Suso.  The  house  in 
which  we  now  find  him  had  been  the  home  of  his 
infancy.  In  his  youth  he  had  been  to  America, 
and  on  returning  to  Spain  without  having  made 
his  fortune,  he  had  joined  the  National  Guard.  He 
then  returned  to  his  native  town  where,  having 
inherited  a  good  fortune,  he  devoted  himself  to 
husbandry  and  to  breeding  cattle,  and  at  the 
period  of  our  story  he  had  just  come  into  another 
and  even  larger  sum. 

His  wife,  who  was  an  Andalusian,    had  died 


MARIANELA.  6l 

very  young,  leaving  him  the  one  son  who,  from 
his  birth,  was  found  to  be  deprived  of  the  most 
precious  of  the  five  senses.  This  was  the  one 
drop  which  embittered  the  tender  father's  cup. 
What  was  the  use  of  reminding  him  that  he  was 
wealthy,  that  fortune  favored  all  his  undertakings 
and  smiled  on  his  house  ?  For  whose  sake  did  he 
care  about  it  all  ?  For  one  who  could  see  neither 
the  thriving  beasts,  the  flowery  meadows,  the 
overflowing  granaries,  nor  the  orchard  with  its 
abundant  crop.  Don  Francisco  would  gladly 
have  given  his  own  eyes  to  his  son,  and  have  re- 
mained blind  for  the  rest  of  his  days,  if  such  an 
act  of  generosity  were  possible  in  this  work-a-day 
world ;  but,  as  it  was  not,  Don  Francisco  could 
only  carry  his  devotion  into  practice  by  giving  the 
hapless  youth  every  pleasure  which  could  alleviate 
the  gloom  of  the  darkness  in  which  he  lived.  For 
him  he  was  indefatigable  in  the  cares  and  the  end- 
less trifling  details  of  forethought  and  affection  of 
which  mothers  have  the  secret — and  fathers  some- 
times, when  the  mother  is  no  more.  He  never 
contradicted  his  son  in  anything  which  might  con- 
sole or  entertain  him  within  the  limits  of  propriety 
and  morality.  He  amused  him  with  narratives  and 
reading,  watched  him  with  studious  anxiety,  con- 
sidering his  health,  his  legitimate  amusements,  his 


62  MARIANELA. 

instruction  and  his  Christian  education  ;  for,  said 
Senor  de  Penaguilas,  whose  principles  were  strictly 
orthodox :  "  I  would  not  have  my  son  doubly 
blind." 

Now,  as  he  came  out  of  the  house,  he  said 
affectionately : 

"  Do  not  go  too  far  to-day,  and  do  not  run  — 
good-bye." 

He  watched  them  from  the  gate  till  they  had 
turned  the  corner  of  the  garden  wall,  and  then  he 
went  indoors,  for  he  had  many  things  to  do ;  to 
write  to  his  brother  Manuel,  to  buy  a  cow,  to 
prune  a  tree,  and  to  see  whether  the  guinea-hen 
had  laid. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

ABSURDITIES. 

PABLO  and  Marianela  went  out  into  the  coun- 
try, preceded  by  Choto,  who  ran  on  and  danced 
round  them,  leaping  with  delight,  and  sharing  his 
caresses  with  great  impartiality  between  his  master 
and  his  master's  guide. 

"  Nela,"  said  Pablo, — "  it  is  a  lovely  day ;  the 
air  is  soft  and  fresh,  and  the  sun  warm  without 
being  scorching.  Where  shall  we  go  ?" 


MARIANELA.  63 

"  Let  us  go  straight  on  through  the  meadows," 
replied  Nela,  poking  her  hand  into  one  of  the 
pockets  of  the  lad's  coat.  "What  have  you 
brought  me  to-day  ?" 

"  Search  and  you  will  find,"  said  Pablo 
laughing. 

"  Ah  !  Holy  Virgin  !  chocolate  !  how  I  love 
chocolate! — nuts — and  something  done  up  in 
paper.  What  is  it  ?  Oh,  Blessed  Virgin !  a 
sweetie  !  Do  not  I  like  sweeties  !  How  rich  I  am  ! 
We  do  not  have  such  good  things  to  eat  at  home, 
Pablo.  There  is  no  luxury  in  our  food ;  there  is 
no  luxury  in  our  clothes  either,  to  be  sure.  In  fact, 
no  luxury  of  any  sort." 

"  Where  shall  we  go  to-day  ?"  repeated  the 
blind  lad. 

"  Wherever  you  like,  child  of  my  heart,"  re- 
plied Nela,  eating  the  sugar-plum  and  tearing  up 
the  paper  it  had  been  wrapped  in.  "  I  hear  and 
obey,  king  of  the  world." 

The  child's  black  eyes  sparkled  with  happiness; 
her  sprightly  little  bird-like  face  smiled  and  wrink- 
led with  satisfaction,  and  was  not  still  for  an  in- 
stant, as  though  fitful  flashes  came  and  went  there 
like  dimpling  light  on  wavelets  in  a  pool.  This 
helpless  little  creature,  whose  spirit  seemed  im- 
prisoned and  confined  in  the  feeble  body,  ex- 


64  MARIANELA. 

panded  and  rose  elastic  when  she  was  alone  with 
her  master  and  friend.  With  him  she  at  once  be- 
came original,  bright  and  intelligent;  she  had 
feeling,  grace,  refinement  and  fancy.  When  she 
left  him,  the  dark  doors  of  a  prison  seemed  to  close 
on  her  once  more. 

"  But  I  tell  you  we  will  go  wherever  you 
like,"  remarked  the  blind  youth.  "I  like  to  do 
what  you  like.  If  you  wish  we  will  go  to  the 
clump  of  trees  beyond  Saldeoro — but  just  as  you 
like." 

"Yes,  yes,  delightful!"  exclaimed  Nela,  clap- 
ping her  hands.  "And  as  there  is  no  hurry,  we  can 
sit  down  whenever  we  are  tired." 

"  There  is  a  nice  place  near  the  spring — do  you 
remember,  Nela?  And  there  are  some  large  tree- 
trunks,  which  seem  to  have  been  left  there  on  pur- 
pose for  us  to  sit  upon,  and  we  hear  so  many, 
many  birds  singing,  that  it  is  quite  glorious." 

"  And  we  can  go  past  the  mill-stream  that,  you 
say,  talks  and  mumbles  the  words  out  like  a  tipsy 
man.  Oh  !  what  a  lovely  day  and  how  happy  I 
am!" 

"  Is  the  sun  very  bright,  Nela  ?  Though  if  you 
say  '  yes,'  I  shall  be  none  the  wiser,  since  bright 
has  no  meaning  for  me." 

"  It  is  very  bright  indeed,  Seiiorito  mio.     But 


MARIANELA.  65 

what  does  it  matter  that  you  cannot  see  it  ?  The 
sun  is  not  at  all  pretty ;  you  cannot  look  in  its 
face." 

"  Why  not  ?" 

"  Because  it  hurts." 

"  Hurts  what  ?" 

"  Hurts  the  eyes.  How  do  you  feel  when  you 
are  happy  ?" 

"When  I  am  out  with  you,  just  we  two  to- 
gether in  the  fields  ?" 

"Yes." 

"  Oh  !  I  feel  inside  me  a  sort  of  freshness,  a 
springing  up  of  something  sweet  and  sooth- 
ing.  .  .  ," 

"  That  is  just  it ;  now  you  know  how  the  sun 
shines  bright." 

"  What  with  freshness  ?" 

"No,  no  — silly  boy." 

"What  then?" 

"  Oh,  like  that" 

"  Like  that  ?     But  what  is  that  ?" 

"  Like  that,"  Nela  insisted  again. 

"  I  see,  it  is  a  thing  that  cannot  be  explained 
in  words.  Do  you  know  I  used  to  have  a  notion 
of  day  and  of  night.  It  was  daytime  when  people 
talked,  it  was  night  when  people  were  silent  and 
the  cocks  crowed.  Now  I  estimate  it  differently ;  it 
''*.:"  V  5 


66  MARIANELA. 

is  day  when  you  and  I  are  together,  and  it  is 
night  when  we  are  apart." 

"  Ah,  Holy  Mother !"  exclaimed  the  girl,  shak- 
ing back  the  elf-locks  that  hung  over  her  forehead. 
—  "To  me,  who  can  see,  it  is  exactly  the  same." 

"  I  mean  to  ask  my  father  to  let  you  come  and 
live  in  our  house,  so  that  I  may  always  have  you 
with  me." 

"  Good,  good  !"  cried  Marianela  clapping  her 
hands  once  more.  And  as  she  spoke,  she  skipped 
on  a  little  way  in  front  and  picking  up  her  skirts 
with  a  great  deal  of  grace  began  to  dance. 

"  What  are  you  about  ?"  asked  the  blind  boy. 

"  Child  of  my  heart,  I  am  dancing,  I  felt  so 
happy  that  I  thought  I  must  dance." 

However,  they  now  had  to  get  over  a  little  fence, 
and  she  slipped  her  hand  into  his.  After  surmount- 
ing this  obstacle,  they  went  along  a  lane  hedged  in 
on  each  side  by  luxuriant  ivy  and  brambles.  Nela 
held  the  branches  back  that  they  might  not  scratch 
her  companion's  face,  and  at  last,  after  going  down- 
hill for  a  considerable  time,  they  went  up  a  slope 
shaded  by  chestnut  and  walnut  trees.  When  they 
had  reached  the  top  Pablo  said : 

"  If  you  do  not  mind  we  will  sit  down  here.  I 
hear  some  people  going  past." 

"  They  are  the  people  returning  from  the  mar- 


MARIANELA.  67 

ket  at  Homedes.  To-day  is  Wednesday.  The 
high-road  runs  just  below  and  we  can  rest  here  be- 
fore going  on." 

"  It  is  the  best  thing  we  can  do.  Choto,  come 
here." 

The  trio  seated  themselves. 

"The  place  is  full  of  flowers,"  said  Nela. 
"What  beauties!" 

"  Pick  me  some.  Though  I  cannot  see  them, 
I  like  to  hold  them  in  my  hand.  I  fancy  I  can 
hear  them." 

"  Here  are  some  lovely  ones." 

"  As  I  hold  them  in  my  hand  I  fancy  that  they 
make  me  feel  and  understand — I  cannot  tell  you 
how — that  they  are  pretty  and  gay.  There  is 
something  inside  me,  that  they  seem  to  belong  to, 
and  that  answers  to  them.  Do  you  know,  Nela, 
I  fancy  that  I  can  really  see,  inside,  as  it  were." 

"  Oh !  yes,  I  quite  understand — we  have  every- 
thing inside  us  there.  The  sun,  the  flowers,  the 
moon  and  wide  blue  sky,  with  all  the  stars — we 
have  them  all  there ;  I  mean  that  besides  all  the 
beautiful  things  outside  us,  and  around  us,  we  carry 
others  with  us  in  our  minds.  Here  you  have  a 
flower — and  another,  and  another — six,  all  quite 
different.  Now,  what  do  you  think  flowers  are  ?" 

"  Flowers,"  said  the  blind  youth,  puzzled  and 

5  * 


68  MARIANELA. 

lifting  them  to  his  face.  "Flowers  are  I  fancy  as 
if  the_  earth  _  .smiled;  but,  in  truth,  I  know  very 
little  about  plants  and  flowers." 

"  Merciful  Mother !  what  terrible  ignorance  !" 
cried  Nela,  stroking  her  friend's  hands.  "  Flowers 
are  the  stars  of  the  earth." 

"  What  an  extravagant  fancy  !  And  what  are 
the  stars  then  ?" 

"  The  stars  are  the  eyes  of  those  who  have 
gone  to  Heaven  and  look  down  on  us." 

"  Well,  but  then  the  flowers.  ..." 

"  Are  the  eyes  of  those  who  are  dead  and 
have  not  gone  straight  to  Heaven,"  said  the  girl, 
with  all  the  decision  and  conviction  of  a  Doctor 
of  Theology.  "  The  dead  are  buried  in  the  ground  ; 
but  as  they  cannot  lie  still  there  without  just  peep- 
ing out  at  the  world,  they  put  forth  something 
which  takes  the  form  of  a  flower.  When,  in  a 
field  there  are  many,  many  flowers,  it  is  because — 
once  upon  a  time,  long  ago,  a  great  many  people 
were  buried  there." 

"  No,  no,"  said  Pablo  very  seriously.  "  Do 
not  believe  such  nonsense.  Our  holy  religion 
teaches  us  that  the  spirit  quits  the  flesh  and  that 
our  mortal  life  comes  to  an  end.  What  is  buried, 
Nela,  is  a  mere  shell  of  useless  clay  which  can 
neither  think,  nor  feel,  nor  even  see." 


MARIANELA.  69 

"  The  books  say  so — but  Senana  says  that 
books  are  full  of  lies." 

"  But  faith  and  reason  say  so  too,  dear  Nela. 
Your  imagination  makes  you  believe  a  number  of 
foolish  things,  but  by  degrees  I  will  show  you 
your  errors,  and  you  will  have  true  and  right 
ideas  about  everything  in  this  world  and  the 
other." 

"  Aye,  aye !  I  know,  lessons  at  three  for  a 
penny! — And  you  wanted  to  make  me  believe 
that  the  sun  stands  still  and  the  earth  spins  round 
and  round  it !  How  can  you  know,  you  who  can- 
not see.  Merciful  Heaven !  May  I  die  on  the 
spot,  if  the  earth  is  not  as  steady  as  a  rock  and  the 
sun  running  on.  Seiiorito  mio,  I  do  not  set  up 
for  learning,  but  I  have  spent  many  hours  of  the 
day  and  night  in  looking  at  the  sky,  and  I  know 
how  the  machine  works.  — The  earth  is  below  and 
full  of  islands,  some  large  and  some  small.  The 
sun  comes  up  on  this  side  and  goes  down  out  there. 
It  is  God  Almighty's  palace." 

"  Foolish  child !" 

"  But  why  not  ?  Ah  !  you  have  never  seen  a 
fine  day  and  clear  sky;  why,  child,  you  could 
fancy  blessing  was  dropping  down  from  it.  I  do 
not  think  there  could  be  wicked  people — nobody 
could  be  wicked — if  they  would  only  turn  up 


70  JtfARIANELA. 

their  faces  and  see  the  great  eye  that  looks  down 
upon  us." 

"  Your  religion  is  full  of  superstition,  my  little 
Nela.  I  will  teach  you  something  better." 

"  Nobody  has  taught  me  anything,"  said  Maria 
very  simply.  "  But  I  myself,  whoever  may  object, 
have  found  out  in  my  own  head  a  great  many 
ideas  that  comfort  me,  and  so  when  a  good  idea 
occurs  to  me,  I  say :  '  Of  course,  it  must  be  so  ;  it 
cannot  be  otherwise.'  At  night,  when  I  am  alone 
at  home,  I  wonder  what  will  become  of  us  when 
we  die,  and  I  think  how  much  the  Holy  Virgin 
loves  us." 

"Yes,  she  is  our  loving  Mother." 

"  And  I  look  up  at  the  sky  and  I  feel  her  close 
over  my  head,  just  as  when  you  go  up  to  any  one, 
you  feel  the  warmth  of  their  breath.  She  looks 
at  us  night  and  day  through  all  the  lovely  things 
there  are  in  the  world — do  not  laugh  at  me." 

"  Those  lovely  things.  .  .  .  ?" 

"  Are  her  eyes,  of  course.  Oh  !  you  would 
understand  it  if  you  had  eyes  yourself.  You  have 
not  seen  a  white  cloud,  a  tree,  a  flower,  running 
water,  a  little  child,  a  little  lamb,  the  sparkling 
dew,  the  moon  sailing  across  the  sky,  and  the  stars, 
which  are  the  eyes  of  the  good  men  who  are 
dead.  .  .  " 


MARIANELA.  /I 

"  They  would  not  want  to  go  up  there  if  they 
lie  under  the  ground  throwing  out  flowers." 

"  Only  hear  this  all-knowing  fellow  !  Why 
they  stay  down  there  only  till  they  are  purified  of 
sin,  and  then  they  mount  and  fly  up  there.  Yes, 
I  believe  it,  simpleton.  Why,  what  can  the  stars 
be  if  they  are  not  the  souls  of  those  who  are 
saved  ?  Do  not  you  know  that  stars  sometimes 
come  down  ?  1,1  myself,  have  seen  them  fall ; 
down,  down,  leaving  a  ray  of  light  behind  them. 
Yes,  Senor,  the  stars  come  down  when  they  have 
something  to  tell  us  here  below." 

"  Oh,  Nela  !"  Pablo  exclaimed  eagerly.  "Your 
wild  imaginings,  absurd  as  they  are,  charm  and 
captivate  me,  for  they  betray  the  innocence  of 
your  soul  and  the  strength  of  your  fancy.  All 
your  errors  even  are  part  of  an  earnest  disposition 
to  know  the  truth,  and  of  great  gifts,  which  would 
be  very  superior  talents  if  they  were  cultivated  by 
reason  and  education.  You  must  acquire  one 
precious  accomplishment  of  which  I  am  deprived 
— you  must  positively  learn  to  read." 

"  To  read  ! — And  who  is  to  teach  me  ?" 

"  My  father  will ;  I  will  ask  him  to  teach  you. 
You  know  he  never  refuses  me  anything.  What  a 
pity  it  is  you  should  live  in  such  a  wretched  way; 
your  mind  is  a  mine  of  treasures.  You  are  good- 


72  MARIANELA. 

ness  and  sweetness  itself  and  have  a  lovely  imagi- 
nation. God  has  given  you  a  large  share  of  all 
the  gifts  that  are  in  his  store  and  part  of  himself; 
I  know  it  well — I  cannot  see  what  is  outside,  but  I 
can  see  within,  and  I  know  all  the  wonders  of  your 
spirit  that  you  have  shown  me  since  you  have 
been  my  guide.  —  It  is  a  year  and  a  half  now,  and 
it  seems  like  yesterday,  that  we  first  began  our 
walks  together — and  yet,  no ;  I  have  known  you 
a  thousand  years.  How  is  it  that  there  is  such  a 
close  relationship  between  your  feelings  and  mine  ? 
Just  now,  for  instance,  you  have  talked  all  sorts 
of  extravagant  nonsense,  and  I,  who  know  the 
truth  about  the  world  and  religion,  I  was  stirred 
to  enthusiasm  as  I  listened  to  you.  I  feel  as  if  it 
were  a  voice  speaking  in  my  own  heart." 

"  Holy  Mother !"  exclaimed  the  girl,  folding 
her  hands..  "  And  can  he  see  something  else  that 
I  feel  ?" 

"  What  is  that  ?" 

"  That  I  was  put  into  the  world  expressly  to 
be  your  lazarillo,  and  that  my  eyes  would  be  of 
no  use  at  all,  if  it  were  not  to  guide  you  and  to 
tell  you  how  beautiful  the  world  is." 

The  blind  boy  turned  his  head  suddenly  and 
eagerly,  and  putting  out  his  hands  to  touch  the 
child  by  his  side,  he  said  anxiously : 


MARIANELA.  73 

"  Tell  me,  Nela — what  are  you  like  ?" 
But  Nela  did  not  answer ;  the  question  was  a 
stab  to  her  heart. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

MORE    ABSURDITIES. 

BY  this  time  they  were  rested,  and  they  went 
on  till  they  reached  the  beginning  of  the  grove 
beyond  Saldeoro.  Here  they  turned  off  into  a 
clump  of  ancient  walnut  trees,  of  which  the  trunks 
and  roots  made  a  sort  of  step-ladder  in  the  soil, 
with  mossy  hollows  and  backs  so  perfect  for  seats, 
that  the  hand  of  man  could  have  made  no  better. 
From  the  top  of  the  slope  trickled  a  thread  of 
water,  tumbling  from  stone  to  stone,  till  it  fell  ex- 
hausted into  a  little  basin  constructed  to  be  a 
reservoir  to  feed  the  conduit  by  which  the  neigh- 
boring houses  were  supplied.  Before  them  the 
land  sloped  gently  away,  affording  a  lovely  pano- 
rama of  green  hills  with  scattered  groves  and 
villas,  and  meadow  plains  where  hundreds  of 
cattle  grazed  and  wandered  peacefully.  Quite  in 
the  background,  between  two  lofty  heights  which 
were  the  farthest  limit  of  the  land,  lay  a  wide  seg- 
ment of  purely  blue  sea.  It  was  such  a  landscape 


74  MARIANELA. 

as  makes  a  man  feel  to  the  utmost  his  relations  to 
infinity  and  eternity. 

Pablo  had  seated  himself  on  the  trunk  of  a 
tree,  resting  his  left  arm  on  the  edge  of  the  basin  ; 
with  his  right  hand  he  pulled  at  the  boughs  which 
hung  low  enough  to  touch  his  forehead,  on  which 
now  and  again  the  sunbeams  played,  as  the  boughs 
stirred. 

"  What  are  you  doing,  Nela  ?"  asked  he,  after 
a  pause,  not  hearing  the  steps,  the  voice,  nor  even 
the  breathing  of  his  companion.  "  What  are  you 
about,  and  where  are  you  ?" 

"  Here  I  am,"  said  Nela,  laying  her  hand  on 
his  shoulder.  "  I  was  looking  at  the  sea." 

"  Ah  !.  it  must  be  a  long  way  off." 

"  It  is  visible  between  the  hills  of  Ficobriga." 

"  Very  large — immensely  large — so  wide  that 
you  might  look  all  day,  and  not  have  done  looking 
— is  it  not  ?" 

"  There  is  only  a  piece  to  be  seen  from  here 
— like  the  bit  you  cut  off  with  your  teeth  when 
you  put  a  slice  of  bread  in  your  mouth." 

"Yes,  yes — I  understand.  Every  one  says 
there  is  nothing  in  the  world  so  beautiful  as  the 
sea,  because  it  is  so  grandly  simple. — Listen, 
Nela,  to  what  I  am  going  to  say — but  what  are 
you  doing  ?"  Nela  had  grasped  a  bough  of  the 


MARIANELA.  75 

tree  with  both  hands,  and  was  swinging  by  it 
lightly  and  gracefully. 

"  Here  I  am,  Senorito  mio,  I  was  wondering 
why  God  should  not  give  us  human  creatures 
wings  to  fly  like  birds.  How  delightful  it  would 
be  just  to  give  a  flap  and  a  whisk,  and  up  we 
should  go,  and  in  one  flight  we  should  be  at  the 
top  of  that  peak  between  Ficobriga  and  the  sea." 

"  But  though  God  has  not  given  us  wings  he 
has  given  us  thought  instead,  which  flies  faster 
than  any  bird,  since  it  can  fly  up  to  God  himself. 
— Tell  me,  child,  of  what  good  would  wings  be  to 
me,  if  God  had  denied  me  the  gift  of  thought  ?" 

"  But  I  should  like  to  have  both.  And  if  I 
had  wings  I  would  pick  you  up  in  my  little  beak 
to  take  you  out  of  this  world,  and  carry  you  up 
ever  so  much  higher  than  the  clouds."  The  blind 
lad  put  out  his  hand  to  stroke  Nela's  hair. 

"  Sit  down  by  me  ;  are  you  not  tired  ?" 

"  Just  a  little,"  she  said,  sitting  down  and  lay- 
ing her  head  with  childlike  confidence  on  her 
master's  shoulder. 

"  You  are  breathing  fast,  Nelilla,  you  are  very 
tired ;  it  is  with  trying  to  fly. — Well,  what  I  want 
to  say  to  you  is  this :  Talking  of  the  sea  put  me. 
in  mind  of  a  thing  my  father  read  to  me  last  night. 
You  know  that  ever  since  I  was  old  enough,  my 


76  MARIANELA. 

father  has  been  in  the  habit  of  reading  to  me 
every  evening  different  books  of  science,  or  his- 
tory, or  art,  or  mere  amusement.  I  might  say 
that  these  readings  make  up  all  I  know  of  life. 
The  Lord,  to  compensate  me  for  being  blind,  has 
given  me  a  very  good  memory,  and  it  has  turned 
these  readings  to  good  account ;  for  though  there 
has  been  no  regular  method  in  them,  I  have  con- 
trived to  put  some  order  into  the  ideas  that  have 
penetrated  to  my  understanding.  How  I  have 
enjoyed  listening  and  learning  about  the  admirable 
laws  and  order  of  the  universe,  the  harmonious 
circling  of  the  stars,  the  motion  of  atoms,  and 
above  all,  those  grand  principles  which  govern  our 
souls  and  minds.  I  have  enjoyed  history  too, 
which  is  a  true  account  of  all  the  things  men  have 
done  in  former  times ;  for  though,  my  child,  they 
have  always  done  the  same  wicked  and  foolish 
things,  they  have  nevertheless  gone  on  improving, 
some  of  them  doing  their  utmost — but  without 
ever  succeeding — to  attain  that  perfection  which 
belongs  to  God  alone.  And  finally,  my  father  has 
read  me  some  deeper  and  more  mysterious  things 
that  cannot  be  understood  at  once,  but  when  they 
are  thought  over  and  considered  they  occupy  and 
charm  the  mind.  He  does  not  enjoy  that  sort  of 
reading  very  much,  as  he  does  not  altogether  fol- 


MARIANELA.  77 

low  it,  and  it  has  tired  me  sometimes,  while  at 
other  times  it  has  delighted  me.  And  there  is  no 
doubt  that  when  you  have  an  author  who  explains 
himself  clearly,  such  subjects  are  very  interesting. 
They  deal  with  cause  and  effect,  the  rationale  of  all 
we  think,  and  how  we  think,  and  teach  us  about 
the  essential  nature  of  things." 

Nela  did  not  seem  to  understand  a  single 
word  of  what  her  friend  was  saying,  but  she  lis-1 
tened  attentively  with  her  mouth  wide  open ;  to 
inhale,  if  possible,  the  essences  and  causes  of 
which  her  master  was  discoursing,  opening  her 
beak  like  a  bird  watching  the  movements  of  a  fly 
he  wants  to  catch. 

"  Well,  then,"  he  went  on,  "  last  night  he  was 
reading  me  some  pages  about  Beauty.  The 
author,  in  discussing  Beauty,  said  that  it  was  the 
outcome  and  radiance  of  goodness  and  truth,  with 
many  other  ingenious  comparisons  so  well  thought 
out  and  expressed,  that  it  was  a  pleasure  to 
listen." 

"  And  was  that  book,"  said  Nela,  anxious  to 
prove  herself  equal  to  the  occasion,  "  like  one 
father  Centeno  has.  .  .  .  The  thousand  and  I  don't 
know  how  many  nights  ?" 

"  No,  no,  goose-cap ;  it  is  a  book  on  Beauty 
in  the  abstract,  you  will  not  understand — on  ideal 


78  MARIANELA. 

Beauty — and  yet  you  must  understand  that  there 
is  a  sort  of  Beauty  which  cannot  be  seen,  nor 
touched,  nor  perceived  by  any  of  our  senses." 

"  For  example,  like  the  Virgin  Mary,"  inter- 
rupted Nela,  "  whom  we  cannot  see  nor  touch, 
because  her  pictures  are  not  herself,  but  only  her 
likeness." 

"  You  are  quite  right ;  it  is  just  like  that. 
Thinking  over  this,  my  father  shut  the  book,  and 
talked  of  one  thing  and  another.  We  spoke  then 
of  beauty  of  form,  and  my  father  said :  '  This 
unfortunately  you  can  never  understand.'  But  I 
said  I  could.  I  said  that  there  could  only  be  one 
type,  and  that  would  apply  to  all." 

Nela,  caring  little  enough  for  such  subtleties, 
had  taken  -the  flowers  out  of  her  companion's 
hands,  and  was  arranging  their  colors  to  her  taste, 

"I  have  a  clear  idea  about  this,"  the  blind 
lad  went  on,  vehemently,  "an  idea  that  I  have 
been  quite  in  love  with  for  some  months.  Yes,  I 
am  sure,  quite  sure  of  it ;  I  want  no  eyes  to  see 
that,  and  I  said  to  my  father,  I  have  an  ideal  of 
enchanting  beauty,  a  type  which  includes  every 
possible  perfection,  and  that  type  is  Nela.  My 
father  began  to  laugh,  and  said  'yes.'  ' 

Nela  turned  as  scarlet  as  a  poppy,  and  could 
not  answer  a  word.  During  a  short  spasm  of  ter- 


MARIANELA.  79 

ror  and  pain,  she  felt  as  if  the  blind  boy  were 
looking  at  her. 

"  Yes,  you  are  the  most  perfect  beauty  imagi- 
nable," Pablo  went  on,  eagerly.  "  How  could  it  be 
possible  that  your  goodness,  and  innocence,  and 
freshness  and  grace — your  imagination,  your  sweet 
and  lovely  soul,  which  have  all  combined  to  enliven 
and  comfort  my  dark  and  melancholy  life — how, 
I  say,  could  it  be  possible  that  they  should  not  be 
embodied  in  a  person  as  lovely  ?  Nela,  Nela," 
and  his  voice  trembled  with  anxiety.  —  "Tell  me 
— are  you  not  beautiful — very  pretty?" 

Nela  was  silent ;  she  instinctively  put  her 
hands  up,  and  stuck  into  her  hair  some  of  the 
half-faded  flowers  she  had  gathered  in  the  mead- 
ows. 

"  You  will  not  say  ?  You  are  modest.  In- 
deed, if*you  were  not,  you  would  not  be  the  sweet 
little  soul  that  you  are ;  the  logic  of  Beauty  would 
be  at  fault,  and  that  cannot  be.  You  do  not  an- 
swer ?" 

"I  .  ..."  murmured  Nela  timidly,  not  ceasing 
her  occupation,  "  I  do  not  know — they  say  that  I 
was  very  pretty  as  a  baby — but  now  .  .  .  ." 

"  You  are  still  ?" 

Maria,  in  her  utter  confusion,  could  only  say : 

"  Now — well,  you  know  that  people  talk  non- 


80  MARIANELA. 

sense — and  make  stupid  mistakes — sometimes 
those  who  have  eyes  see  least." 

"  Yes  indeed,  well  said  !  Come  here  and  kiss 
me." 

Nela  did  not  instantly  obey,  for  having  suc- 
ceeded in  fixing  a  sort  of  garland  of  flowers  in  her 
hair,  she  now  felt  an  eager  wish  to  see  the  effect 
of  the  adornment  in  the  clear  mirror  of  the  reser- 
voir. For  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  felt  an  im- 
pulse of  vanity,  and  leaning  on  her  hands,  she  bent 
over  the  basin. 

"  What  are  you  doing  ?"  asked  the  blind  lad. 

"  I  am  looking  at  myself  in  the  water,  which  is 
just  like  a  looking-glass,"  she  replied,  confessing 
her  vanity  with  perfect  simplicity. 

"  You  need  not  do  that.  You  are  as  lovely  as 
the  angels  round  the  throne  of  God."  He  had 
fired  himself  with  enthusiastic  imaginings.  * 

"  The  water  is  ruffled  now,"  said  the  girl, 
"  and  I  cannot  see  myself  plainly.  It  is  trembling 
as  much  as  I  am.  There,  now  it  is  quieter,  now 
it  is  still  again.  —  I  can  see  myself  now,  very  well." 

"  And  see  how  pretty  you  are  !  Come  here, 
my  child  ?"  added  the  blind  youth,  holding  out  his 
arms. 

"I ....  pretty  !"  she  said,  in  anxious  confusion. 
"  Well,  what  I  see  in  the  pool  is  not  so  ugly  as 


MARIANELA.  8 1 

they  say.  The  fact  is,  there  are  a  great  many 
people  who  do  not  know  how  to  see." 

"  Aye,  a  great  many." 

"  If  only  I  were  dressed  as  other  girls  are  !" 
exclaimed  Nela,  with  a  touch  of  pride. 

"You  shall  be." 

"  And  the  book  said  I  was  beautiful  ?"  asked 
Nela,  appealing  to  every  source  of  conviction. 

"  I  say  so,  and  I  always  speak  the  truth  !"  cried 
the  boy,  carried  away  by  his  eager  imagination. 

"  Maybe  it  is  so,"  said  Nela,  moving  away 
from  her  not  too  flattering  contemplation.  "  May- 
be that  men  are  very  stupid,  and  do  not  see 
things  as  they  really  are." 

"  Human  nature  is  liable  to  a  thousand 
errors." 

"  I  do  believe  it,"  said  Mariquilla,  greatly  com- 
forted by  her  friend's  words.  "  What  can  they 
see  to  laugh  at  in  me  ?" 

"  Oh  !  how  miserable  is  the  lot  of  man  !"  cried 
the  blind  boy,  driven  to  wild  absurdity  by  his  rav- 
ing fancy.  "  The  gift  of  sight  may  lead  him  into 
many  errors — may  betray  him  into  a  misappre- 
hension of  abstract  truth — and  abstract  truth 
proves  that  you  are  beautiful,  without  any  stain 
or  blemish  of  ugliness.  If  any  one.  tells  me  the 
contrary,  I  will  give  him  the  lie.  Away  with  their 


82  MARIANELA. 

theories  of  form.  Oh,  fool !  into  what  sins  your 
eyes  may  mislead  you  !  Nela,  come  here,  I  want 
to  have  you  by  my  side  and  kiss  your  beloved 
head." 

She  threw  herself  into  his  arms. 

"  Sweet,  lovely  darling !"  he  exclaimed,  clasp- 
ing her  passionately  to  his  breast  "  With  all  my 
soul  I  love  you  !" 

Nela  did  not  speak.  Her  heart  was  full  of  in- 
nocent and  tender  devotion,  overflowing  with  pure 
delight.  The  youth,  trembling  and  throbbing, 
held  her  more  closely  than  ever,  saying : 

"  I  love  you  more  than  my  life.  Angel  of 
God,  love  me  too  or  I  shall  die  !" 

Maria  freed  herself  from  his  embrace,  and  he 
remained  lost  in  bewilderment.  She,  the  tiny 
woman,  felt  an  overwhelming  and  irresistible  im- 
pulse to  look  at  her  face  once  more  in  the  water. 
She  gently  stole  up  to  the  edge,  and  there  against 
the  green  background  she  saw  the  insignificant 
little  face,  with  its  black  eyes,  its  dull  coloring,  its 
sharp  nose — not  altogether  ugly  that  nose — the 
short,  unkempt  hair,  and  the  birdlike,  eager  ex- 
pression. She  leaned  farther  over  the  stone  brim 
to  see  her  body ;  it  was  pitiably  made  and  mean. 
The  flowers  in  her  hair  fell  into  the  water,  mak- 
ing circles  in  it,  and  the  image  wavered.  She, 


MARIANELA.  83 

poor  child,  felt  as  if  her  heart  were  being  torn  up 
by  the  roots,  and  she  staggered  backwards,  mur- 
muring: 

"  -Mother  of  God  !  how  hideous  I  am  !" 

"  What  are  you  saying,  Nela  ?  I  thought  you 
spoke." 

"  I  did  not  say  anything — son  of  my  soul. — 
I  was  only  thinking. — Yes,  it  is  high  time  we 
should  turn  homewards.  It  will  soon  be  dinner- 
time." 

"  Well,  come  along,  you  shall  dine  with  me, 
and  bye-and-by  we  will  go  out  again.  Give  me 
your  hand ;  I  will  not  have  you  leave  me." 

When  they  reached  home,  Don  Francisco  was 
in  the  forecourt  with  two  other  gentlemen ;  Maria- 
nela  recognized  the  engineer  of  the  mines  and  the 
stranger  who  had  lost  his  way  in  La  Terrible  the 
night  before. 

"  Here  are  the  Senor  ingeniero,"  said  she, 
"  and  his  brother — the  gentleman  of  last  even- 
ing." 

All  three  men  gazed  with  evident  interest  at 
the  blind  youth  as  he  approached. 

"  We  have  been  expecting  you  some  time,  my 
son,"  said  the  father,  taking  his  hand  and  intro- 
ducing him  to  the  doctor. 

"  Let  us  go  indoors,"  said  the  engineer. 

'-.-..      6* 


84  MARIANELA. 

"  Blessings  on  all  men  of  science  with  good 
hearts !"  exclaimed  Don  Francisco,  turning  to  the 
doctor.  "  Walk  in,  gentlemen ;  happy  is  the 
hour  when  you  enter  my  house." 

"  Now,  let  us  study  the  case,"  murmured 
Golfin. 

When  Pablo  and  the  two  visitors  had  gone  in, 
Don  Francisco  turned  to  Mariquilla,  who  was  stand- 
ing transfixed  and  doubtful  in  the  middle  of  the 
court- yard,  and  said  kindly  : 

"  You  see,  Nela,  you  may  as  well  go  home. 
My  son  will  not  be  able  to  go  out  this  afternoon." 
And  then,  seeing  that  still  she  did  not  move,  he 
added : 

"  You  may  run  round  to  the  kitchen.  Doro- 
tea  will  give  you  something  nice." 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

AND  YET  MORE. 

THE  following  day  Pablo  and  his  guide  set  out 
at  the  same  hour ;  but,  as  the  sky  was  overcast 
and  a  disagreeable  breeze  was  blowing  which 
threatened  to  become  a  south-westerly  gale,  they 
decided  on  making  their  walk  a  short  one.  Cross- 
ing the  village  green  of  Aldeacorba,  they  went 


MARIANELA.  85 

along  the  great  slope  above  the  mines  to  the  west, 
intending  to  go  down  into  the  excavations. 

"  Nela,  I  must  tell  you  something  that  will 
make  you  leap  with  joy,"  said  the  blind  lad  when 
they  were  at  some  distance  from  the  house.  "  My 
heart  is  bursting  with  happiness.  —  I  feel  as  if  the 
whole  Universe,  all  the  sciences,  history,  philoso- 
phy, natural  history — all  that  I  have  ever  learnt 
had  got  inside  me,  and  was  dancing  in  procession. 
You  saw  those  two  gentlemen  who  were  waiting 
for  me  yesterday .  .  .  ." 

"  Don  Carlos  and  his  brother  .  .  .  ." 
"  He  is  a  famous  doctor  who  has  been  all  over 
America,  making  wonderful  cures.  —  He  is  come 
to  see  his  brother,  and  as  Don  Carlos  is  a  great 
friend  of  my  father's,  he  asked  his  brother  to  ex- 
amine me.  How  kind  and  gentle  he  is !  First  he 
sat  talking  to  me ;  he  asked  me  a  number  of 
questions,  and  told  me  all  sorts  of  pleasant  and 
amusing  stories.  Then  he  told  me  to  sit  quite 
still ;  I  felt  his  fingers  on  my  eyelids,  and  after  a 
long  time  he  said  something  I  did  not  understand 
— medical  terms,  and  my  father  never  read  me 
anything  about  medicine.  Then  he  led  me  close 
to  the  window,  and  while  he  examined  my  eyes 
with  some  instrument  the  room  was  as  quiet. — 
Then  he  said  to  my  father:  "  It  is  worth  trying." 


86    '  MARIANELA. 

They  said  more,  but  in  a  low  voice  that  I  might 
not  hear,  and  I  think  they  talked  partly  by  signs. 
When  the  visitors  were  gone,  my  father  said  to 
me :  '  Son  of  my  soul,  I  cannot  conceal  from  you 
the  joy  that  is  in  me.  This  man,  this  angel  from 
Heaven,  has  given  me  a  hope — a  very  faint  hope 
— but  we  cling  most  to  a  hope  when  it  is  smallest. 
I  try  to  give  it  up  by  telling  myself  it  is  impos- 
sible— no,  almost  impossible — but  it  sticks  to  me 
like  a  burr.' — This  was  what  my  father  said,  and 
I  could  hear  in  his  voice  that  he  was  crying. 
What  are  you  doing,  Nela  ?  Are  you  dancing  ?" 

"  No.  —  Here  I  am,  close  to  you  !" 

"  But  you  used  to  dance  when  I  told  you  any- 
thing that  made  me  happy.  Where  shall  we  go 
to-day  ?" 

"  It  is  a  dull  day — we  will  go  as  far  as  Tras- 
cava,  that  is  a  sheltered  spot,  and  then  go  down 
into  La  Terrible." 

"  Very  well,  just  as  you  like.  —  Oh,  Nela!  If 
only  it  could  be  true ;  if  God  would  have  pity  on 
me,  and  grant  me  the  joy  of  seeing  you.  Even  if 
I  could  only  see  for  one  day,  and  were  blind  again 
the  next,  how  I  would  thank  Him." 

Nela  said  nothing.  After  feeling  at  first  in- 
tensely happy,  she  now  walked  on  thoughtfully, 
with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  ground. 


MARIANELA.  87 

"  Many  wonderful  things  happen  in  the 
world,"  Pablo  went  on.  "  And  God's  mercy 
works  in  strange  ways— —strikes  as  suddenly  as  his 
wrath.  It  comes  upon  us  unexpectedly,  after  long 
punishment  and  torment,  just  as  his  anger  falls  on 
us  in  the  midst  of  happiness  which  has  seemed  se- 
cure and  eternal — do  you  not  think  so  ?" 

"  Yes  —  what  you  hope  will  be  accom- 
plished." 

"  How  do  you  know  ?" 

"  My  heart  tells  me  so." 

"  Your  heart  tells  you  !  And  why  should  not 
such  warnings  come  true  ?"  cried  Pablo,  fervently. 
"  Yes — such  chosen  souls  as  yours  can,  in  some 
cases,  foresee  the  issue.  I  have  noticed  it  in  my- 
self, for,  as  I  am  not  diverted  from  self-inspection 
by  seeing  things  outside  me,  I  have  perceived 
sometimes  that  I  had  a  whispered  presentiment 
that  was  quite  inexplicable.  Then  when  some 
event  or  other  has  come  to  pass,  I  have  said  to 
myself  with  astonishment :  '  I  knew  all  this  be- 
forehand.' ' 

"The  same  thing  happens  to  me,"  replied 
Nela.  "  Yesterday  you  told  me  you  loved  me 
dearly,  and  when  I  got  home  I  said  to  myself: 
'  It  is  very  strange,  but  I  knew  something  of 

this.' "  ;. 


88  MARIANELA. 

"  It  is  wonderful,  .dear  little  one,  how  perfectly 
our  souls  are  one.  United  by  our  own  wish  and 
will,  nothing  is  wanting  but  a  bond  of  union.  That 
bond  shall  be  tied  if  I  really  gain  the  precious 
sense  that  I  have  never  enjoyed.  The  idea  of 
seeing  would  never  have  taken  possession  of  my 
mind  if  I  did  not  cherish  above  all  things  the  idea 
that  through  it  I  should  love  you  better.  The  ac- 
quisition of  that  power  can  be  nothing  to  me  but 
the  faculty  of  admiring  in  a  new  kind  of  way  what 
I  already  admire  so  truly  by  the  way  of  love. — 
But  I  fancy  you  are  sad  to-day." 

"  Yes,  I  am ;  and  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  do 
not  know  why.  I  am  very  happy  and  very  sad, 
both  at  once.  The  day  is  so  gloomy — it  would 
be  better  if  it  never  were  day  at  all,  always 
night." 

"  Nay,  nay,  things  are  good  as  they  are.  Day 
and  night !  If  God  ever  grant  me  to  know  the 
difference,  how  happy  I  shall  be !  Why  are  you 
stopping?" 

"  We  have  come  to  a  dangerous  bit.  We 
must  turn  aside  a  little  way  to  get  to  the  path." 

"  Ah  !  La  Trascava !  This  slippery  grass 
slopes  down  till  it  is  lost  in  the  chasm.  Whatever 
falls  down  there  does  not  come  up  again.  Let  us 
go  away,  Nela;  I  do  not  like  this  place." 


MARIANELA.  89 

"  Silly  boy,  it  is  a  long  way  from  this  to  the 
mouth  of  the  chasm.  And  it  is  very  pretty  here 
to-day." 

Nela  stood  still  and  detained  her  companion 
by  the  arm,  looking  down  at  the  mouth  of  the 
gulf  which  opened  in  the  earth,  in  shape  like  a 
funnel.  The  sloping  sides  of  this  narrow,  deep 
basin  were  covered  by  extremely  fine  turf;  at  the 
very  bottom  a  large  oblong  rock  lay  on  the  grass 
among  brambles,  fennel  shrubs  and  rushes,  and 
an  immense  variety  of  gay-colored  flowers.  The 
stone  looked  like  a  large  tongue.  You  felt,  rather 
than  saw,  that  by  the  side  of  it  there  was  an  open- 
ing, an  abyss,  hidden  by  plants,  such  as  Don 
Quixote  had  to  cut  away  when  he  slid  into  the 
cavern  of  Montesinos. 

Nela  seemed  never  tired  of  looking. 

"  Why  do  you  say  that  the  horrible  Trascava 
looks  pretty  ?"  asked  Pablo. 

"  Because  it  is  so  full  of  flowers.  Last  week 
they  were  all  dead  and  over,  but  now  they  have 
bloomed  afresh,  and  it  really  is  lovely  to  look 
at.  And  there  are  such  numbers  of  birds  there, 
and  of  butterflies  too,  sucking  honey  from  the 
flowers.  Choto,  Choto,  come  here — do  not 
frighten  the  poor  little  birds." 

The  dog,  who  had  run  down  the  slope,  came 


9O  MARIANELA. 

galloping  back  at  Nela's  call,  and  the  fluttering 
republic  of  birds  returned  to  take  possession  of 
their  common  property. 

"  I  have  a  perfect  horror  of  the  place,"  said 
Pablo,  pulling  the  girl's  arm.  "  Now,  shall  we  go 
as  far  as  the  mines  ?  I  know  the  way  there,  and 
feel  on  my  own  ground ;  we  will  go  round  behind 
el  Barco. — Choto,  go  on  in  front,  do  not  get 
under  my  feet." 

They  went  down  a  path  cut  into  steps  and  soon 
reached  the  basin  formed  by  digging  out  the  earth 
and  ore.  Leaving  the  zone  of  vegetation,  they 
suddenly  crossed  the  boundary  line  of  a  geologi- 
cal zone,  so  to  speak,  an  enormous  trench,  whose 
sides,  wrought  by  the  pick  and  shovel,  displayed 
an  interesting  section  of  stratification,  where  the 
different  layers  showed  the  greatest  variety  of 
colors  and  earths.  This  was  the  place  where 
Teodoro  Golfin  had  fancied  himself  in  the  hull  of 
a  wrecked  vessel,  worn  away  by  the  waves — and 
its  popular  name  el  Barco  (the  ship),  had  been 
suggested  by  that  very  resemblance.  By  day, 
however,  the  spectator  was  chiefly  struck  by  the 
sections  of  the  strata  with  their  sulphurous  and 
carboniferous  veins,  black  sedimentary  deposits, 
lignites,  in  which  jet  frequently  occurred,  streaks 
of  ferruginous  earth  that  looked  as  if  they  had 


MARIANELA.  gi 

been  mixed  with  blood,  and  large,  even  layers  of 
slate,  split  in  a  thousand  places  by  human  devices, 
bristling  with  splinters  and  riven  into  fissures  and 
clefts,  looking  like  wounds  seen  through  a  strong 
magnifier;  while  a  thread  of  watert  stained  with 
oxide  of  iron,  that  flowed  down  the  middle,  might 
be  taken  for  blood. 

"Where  is  our  seat  ?"  asked  the  young  man. 
"  Let  us  go  there ;  we  shall  be  sheltered  from  the 
wind." 

Out  of  the  bottom  of  the  gre^t  cutting  they 
went  up  by  a  rough  foot-path,  that  had  been  made 
between  broken  stones  and  earth  overgrown  with 
rank  fennel,  and  at  the  top  they  sat  down  under  the 
shelter  of  an  enormous  crag,  rent  across  the  middle. 
The  two  halves  of  the  rock,  standing  opposite  each 
other,  with  their  jagged  faces,  looked  for  all  the 
world  like  two  yawning  jaws  trying  to  meet  and 
close. 

"How  pleasant  it  is  here!"  Pablo  said. 
"  Sometimes  there  is  a  disagreeable  draught 
through  this  chasm,  but  I  do  not  feel  it  to-day. 
What  we  hear  is  the  trickling  water  down  inside 
the  bowels  of  La  Trascava." 

"  It  is  very  quiet  to-day,"  observed  Nela. 
"  Would  you  like  to  lie  down  ?" 

"That  is  a  good  idea  !    Last  night  I  could  not 


92  MARIANELA. 

sleep,  for  thinking  of  all  my  father  had  said  to  me, 
of  the  doctor,  of  my  eyes.  —  All  night  I  felt  as  if 
a  hand  went  into  my  eyes  and  opened  a  closed 
and  moss-grown  door."  As  he  spoke  he  stretched 
himself  at  full  length  and  laid  his  head  on  Nela's 
knees. 

"  A  door,"  he  went  on,  "  which  was  quite  in 
my  inmost  feeling,  opened,  as  I  tell  you,  showing 
a  way  into  a  room  where  the  idea  that  haunts  me 
was  shut  up.  Oh  !  Nela  of  my  heart,  best  beloved, 
idolized  darling,  if  only  God  would  grant  me  the 
sense  I  lack.  Then  I  should  think  myself  the 
happiest  of  men — for  I  am  almost  that  already, 
merely  from  having  you  to  be  the  friend  and  com- 
panion of  my  life.  Very  little  is  needed  to  make 
us  two  one — nothing  but  to  see  you  and  rejoice  in 
your  beauty,  with  that  joy  in  seeing  which  I  can- 
not even  comprehend,  since  I  have  only  a  vague 
conception  of  it.  I  have  a  questioning  spirit  only 
because  I  have  no  power  to  see  for  myself.  I  fancy 
it  will  be  like  a  new  way  of  loving  you.  I  think 
of  nothing  but  your  beauty,  still,  there  is  some- 
thing in  it  which  I  cannot  realize  as  my  own." 

"  Hark  !"  said  Nela  suddenly,  with  evident  in- 
terest in  something  quite  distinct  from  what  her 
friend  was  saying.  "  Do  not  you  hear  ?" 

"  What  ?" 


MARIANELA.  93 

"Down  in  there — La  Trascava — it  is  talk- 
ing." 

"  Superstitious  child !  water  cannot  talk,  my 
Nela.  What  language  could  a  driblet  of  water 
speak  ?  There  are  but  two  things  which  speak, 
my  sweet:  the  tongue  and  the  conscience." 

"  And  La  Trascava,"  said  Nela,  turning  paler. 
"It  is  a  whisper  only  :  'Yes,  yes,  yes,1  it  says.  And 
sometimes  I  can  hear  my  mother's  voice,  saying 
quite  plainly.  '  My  little  girl,  it  is  very  pleasant 
down  here.'  ' 

"  It  is  all  your  fancy.  Well,  fancy  talks  too  ;  I 
forgot  that.  My  imagination  sometimes  chatters  so 
fast,  that  I  have  to  tell  it  to  be  silent.  Its 
voice  is  loud,  persistent,  intolerable ;  that  of  con- 
science is  deep,  calm,  convincing ;  there  is  no  an- 
swering or  refuting  it." 

"  Now  it  sounds  as  if  it  were  crying,"  said 
Nela,  still  listening  to  the  bubbling  water.  "  It  is 
dying  away  little  by  little." 

Suddenly  a  light  gust  came  up  from  the 
chasm. 

"There,  it  sighed  deeply — did  not  you  hear  ? 
Now  I  hear  the  voice  again ;  it  is  speaking  low, 
and  it  says  to  me  in  a  whisper,  a  tiny  whisper  in 
my  ear.  ..." 

"  Well,  what  does  it  say  ?" 


94  MARIANELA. 

"  Nothing,"  said  Maria  shortly,  after  a  pause. 
"You  say  it  is  all  nonsense — you  may  be 
right." 

"  I  will  get  all  these  absurd  ideas  out  of  your 
head,"  said  the  blind  youth  taking  her  hand.  "  We 
are  going  to  live  together  all  our  lives.  Oh ! 
Heavenly  Father  !  If  I  am  never  to  enjoy  the 
blessing  of  which  Thou  didst  deprive  me  at  my 
birth,  why  hast  Thou  allowed  me  to  hope  ?  Hapless 
wretch  that  I  am,  if  I  am  not  born  anew  under  the 
hands  of  Doctor  Golfin.  A  new  birth  indeed — a 
new  life  !  Oh  !  my  darling,  I  swear  to  you  by  the 
image  of  God  that  exists  in  my  soul,  glorious,  real 
and  immutable,  that  you  and  I  will  never  part  by 
my  will.  I  shall  have  eyes,  Nela,  eyes  to  delight 
in  your  presence,  and  then  I  will  marry  you.  You 
will  be  my  beloved  wife — life  of  my  life,  and  the 
joy  and  pride  of  my  soul.  —  And  do  you  say 
nothing  to  this  even  ?" 

Nela  bent  her  head  down  over  the  lad's  hand- 
some face ;  she  wished  to  speak,  but  could  not 
for  emotion. 

"  And  if  God  will  not  after  all  vouchsafe  me 
this  mercy,"  added  Pablo,  "  still  you  will  not  leave 
me,  still  you  will  be  my  wife — unless  it  horrifies 
you  to  think  of  marrying  a  blind  man.  Indeed,  my 
dearest,  I  ought  not  to  inflict  such  a  burden  on  you. 


MARIANELA.  95 

You  will  meet  some  good  man  who  will  love  you,  and 
who  will  make  you  happy.  Your  wonderful  kind- 
ness, your  noble  feelings,  your  sweet  face,  must 
win  many  hearts  and  inspire  the  purest  love  in  all 
who  have  to  do  with  you — your  future  cannot  fail 
to  be  bright  and  happy.  I  swear  to  you  that  I 
shall  love  you  as  long  as  I  live ;  seeing  or  blind,  I 
devote  myself  to  you  before  God  in  the  fullest, 
most  perfect,  and  most  unbounded  love. — Will 
you  not  speak  to  me,  Nela  ?" 

"Yes — I  love  you  dearly — very,  very  dearly .  ." 
said  Nela,  putting  her  face  close  to  his.  "  But  do 
not  be  anxious  to  see  me.  Perhaps  I  am  not  so 
nice  as  you  fancy." 

As  she  spoke,  Nela  felt  in  her  pocket  and 
brought  out  a  piece  of  silvered  glass,  a  dull  and 
useless  fragment  of  a  cheap  mirror,  which  had 
heen  broken  a  week  since  in  the  Centeno  house- 
hold. In  this  she  looked  at  herself.  The  image 
was  all  awry,  and  in  consequence  of  the  small 
size  of  the  looking-glass  she  was  obliged  to  study 
it  a  bit  at  a  time,  first  one  eye  and  then  her  fore- 
head, till,  holding  it  farther  off,  she  could  com- 
mand a  view  of  half  her  face  at  once.  But  alas  ! 
the  result  of  her  investigations  was  sad  enough  — 
as  she  looked  in  the  glass,  the  tears  started  from 
her  eyes. 


96  MARIANELA. 

"  Nela,  I  felt  a  drop  on  my  forehead — it  is 
raining." 

"  Yes,  my  child,  it  seems  to  be  raining,"  said 
Nela  with  a  gulping  sob. 

"No^ — you  are  crying. — Something  in  my 
heart  tells  me  so.  You  are  goodness  itself;  your 
soul  and  mine  are  united  by  some  divine  and 
mysterious  bond;  they  can  never  be  parted  —  is  it 
not  true?  they  are  two  halves  of  one  whole. — 
Are  they  not  ?" 

"Quite  true." 

"Your  tears  give  me  a  plainer  answer  than 
words  could.  You  love  me  do  you  not,  and 
will  always  love  me,  just  the  same  whether  I  re- 
cover my  sight  or  remain  blind  ?" 

"The  same,  just  the  same!"  cried  Nela  vehe- 
mently. ^ 

"  And  will  always  stay  with  me  ?" 

"Always." 

"Then  listen,"  cried  the  blind  lad  in  passionate 
rapture.  "  If  I  had  to  choose  between  remaining 
blind  and  losing  you,  I  would  choose.  ..." 

"  You  would  choose  to  remain  blind  !  Oh  ! 
merciful  Mother  of  Heaven  !  how  happy — how 
happy  I  am  !" 

"  I  would  choose  not  to  see  your  sweet  face 
with  these  eyes,  for  I  can  see  it  in  my  soul  as 


MARIANELA.  97 

clearly  as  truth.  You  live  here,  in  my  heart,  and 
to  me  you  are  more  lovely  and  enchanting  than 
anything  on  earth." 

"  Oh  !  yes,  yes,"  cried  Nela  half-crazed.  "  I 
must  be  beautiful— I  must  be  lovely !" 

"  Listen,"  said  Pablo,  "  I  have  a  presentiment, 
a  sure  anticipation.  It  is  as  though  the  voice  of 
God  within  me  promised  me  that  I  should  have 
my  sight,  that  I  shall  see  you,  that  we  shall  be 
happy.  Do  you  not  feel  it  yourself?" 

"  I — yes,  I  feel  sure  you  will  see.  ..." 

"  I  shall  see  your  face — what  happiness !" 
cried  the  blind  boy  in  the  high-pitched  ecstatic 
tone,  which  was  peculiar  to  him  in  moments  of 
excitement.  —  "But  I  see  it  already,  I  see  it  now 
in  my  heart — as  plainly  as  the  truth  in  my 
soul." 

"  Yes,  yes,  oh !  yes,"  Nela  repeated  wildly, 
with  wide-open  eyes  and  quivering  lips.  "  It  is 
true,  I  am,  I  must  be,  beautiful !" 

"  Bless  you,  sweet  one  !" 

"  And  you,"  she  said  gravely,  kissing  his  fore- 
head. "  Now,  are  you  not  sleepy  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  am  beginning  to  be  sleepy.  I  did  not 
sleep  all  night.  And  I  am  so  comfortable  here." 

"  Then  sleep,  my  child.  ..." 

And  she  began  to  sing  a  lullaby.     In  a  few 

7 


98  MARIANELA. 

minutes  he  was  asleep ;  but  Nela  sat  listening  to 
the  voice  of  La  Trascava,  which  said :  "  Daugh- 
ter come  .  .  .  daughter  come." 


CHAPTER  DC* 

THE   BROTHERS   GOLFIN. 

TEODORO  GOLFIN  did  not  waste  his  time  at 
Socarte.  The  first  day  after  his  arrival  he  spent 
several  hours  in  his  brother's  laboratory,  and  dur- 
ing the  following  days  he  went  from  one  part  of 
the  mines  to  another,  examining  and  admiring  all 
he  saw — here  the  awful  might  of  natural  forces, 
and  there  the  power  and  enterprise  of  human  skill. 
At  night,  when  all  was  still  in  the  busy  village, 
and  nothing  was  awake  but  the  snorting  furnaces, 
the  worthy  doctor,  who  was  an  enthusiastic  musi- 
cian, listened  with  delight  to  his  sister-in-law's 
piano ;  Senora  Sofia,  was  Don  Carlos'  wife,  but 
their  children  were  all  dead. 

The  two  brothers  were  devotedly  attached  to 
each  other.  Born  in  the  humblest  rank  of  life, 
they  had  struggled  hard  in  early  youth  to  rise 
above  ignorance  and  poverty,  often  on  the  point  of 
giving  way  to  the  difficulties  that  beset  them ;  but 
the  impetus  of  manly  determination  was  so  strong 


MARIANELA.  99 

in  them,  that  at  length,  gasping  for  breath,  they 
reached  the  longed-for  land,  rising  superior  to  the 
beating  waves  in  which  vulgar  souls  splash  and 
struggle  in  a  perpetual  state  of  shipwreck. 

Teodoro,  who  was  the  eldest,  was  a  medical 
man  before  Carlos  was  qualified  as  an  engineer, 
and  he  helped  him  to  the  utmost  so  long  as  the 
younger  brother  needed  it,  and  when  he  saw  him 
fairly  started,  he  took  the  step  to  which  his  enter- 
prising spirit  had  long  aspired,  and  set  out  for 
South  America.  There  he  practised  with  other 
celebrated  physicians,  gaining  fame  and  wealth. 
After  a  short  visit  at  home,  in  Spain,  he  returned 
to  the  New  World,  and  even  after  a  second  voyage 
home  he  went  back  again ;  but  during  each  of 
these  expeditions  he  made  a  short  tour  in  Europe 
to  avail  himself  of  the  advances  made  in  ophthal- 
mic science  which  he  particularly  cultivated. 

He  was  a  man  of  unpolished  manners, 
dark  and  with  an  expression  at  once  intelli- 
gent and  sensual ;  his  lips  were  thick,  his 
skin  opaque  and  hairy,  his  eyes  bright  and 
keen ;  his  frame  was  robust  and  his  constitution 
sound,  though  somewhat  injured  by  the  South 
American  climate.  His  large,  round  face,  his 
prominent  brow,  his  short,  rebellious  hair,  the  flash 
of  his  eyes  and  his  thick,  square  hands,  had  led  to 

6 


IOO  MARIANELA. 

his  being  spoken  of  as  "the  black  lion."  In  truth, 
he  was  like  a  lion,  and  like  the  king  of  beasts,  he 
never  lost  an  opportunity  of  asserting  the  estima- 
tion in  which  he  held  himself.  However,  this 
vanity  of  a  really  distinguished  man  was  the  most 
pardonable  of  vanities,  for  it  consisted  chiefly 
in  his  persistently  displaying  his  two  great 
titles  of  fame  and  honor,  namely :  his  devotion 
to  surgery  and  the  lowness  of  his  origin.  He  spoke 
incorrectly,  from  his  utter  inability  to  elaborate 
phrases  with  ease  and  elegance.  His  rapid  and 
broken  sentences  followed  the  course  of  his  ideas, 
which  were  as  swift  as  the  electric  spark. 

"  We,"  Teodoro  would  say,  "  although  we 
have  sprung  from  the  grass  by  the  way-side,  which 
is  the  lowest  origin  conceivable,  have  grown  into 
stalwart  trees.  Long  live  labor  and  human  enter- 
prise !  I  cannot  but  think  that  we  Golfins,  though 
Heaven  knows  where  we  came  from,  must  have 
some  English  blood  in  our  veins.  Even  our  name 
seems  to  me  to  be  of  purely  Saxon  origin.  I  give 
it  this  etymology,  Gold-find,  or,  as  you  may  say, 
Gold-finders.  Well,  and  my  brother  finds  it  in 
the  bowels  of  the  earth,  while  I  find  it  in  that 
marvellous  miniature  universe  :  the  human  eye." 

At  the  period  of  our  story  he  had  just  arrived 
via  New  York  and  Liverpool,  and,  as  he  declared, 


MARIANELA.  IOI 

he  now  meant  to  remain  at  home ;  but  no  one  be- 
lieved it,  for  he  had  said  so  many  times  before  and 
had  not  kept  his  word. 

His  brother  Carlos  was  a  gentler  being,  placid, 
studious,  a  slave  to  his  duties,  and  devoted  to 
mineralogy  and  metallurgy  to  the  point  of  caring 
far  more  for  these  two  branches  of  learning  than 
for  his  wife's  society.  But  the  couple  lived,  never- 
theless, in  perfect  harmony  ;  or,  as  Teodoro  said, 
in  an  isomorphous  state,  crystallizing  on  the  same 
system.  As  for  himself,  when  matrimony  was 
spoken  of,  he  would  say: 

"To  me,  marriage  would  be  an  epigenesis,  a 
pseudo-morphous  crystallization,  that  is  to  say,  a 
mode  of  crystallization  which  would  not  har- 
monize with  my  nature." 

Sofia  was  a  very  good  woman,  who  had  been 
very  handsome,  but  whose  beauty  was  daily  los- 
ing character  and  expression  from  her  unfortunate 
tendency  to  stoutness.  She  had  been  told  that  an 
atmosphere  charged  with  coal  smoke  had  a  ten- 
dency to  reduce  fat,  and  for  this  reason  she  had 
come  to  live  at  the  mines,  without  ever  leaving  them 
the  whole  year  through.  The  horrible  air,  charged 
with  dust,  calamine  and  smoke,  annoyed  her 
much  however.  She  had  no  child  alive,  and  her 
principal  occupation  consisted  in  playing  the 


102     ,  MARIANELA. 

piano  and  in  organizing  societies  of  benevolent 
ladies  for  giving  the  poor  help  in  their  homes,  and 
for  maintaining  hospitals  and  schools. 

At  Madrid,  for  many  years  her  energy  had 
been  prodigious,  a  real  model  for  all  who  feel 
prompted  to  acts  of  charity.  With  the  help  of  two 
or  three  ladies  of  rank,  equally  devoted  to  their 
humble  and  suffering  neighbors,  she  had  organized 
more  than  twenty  dramatic  performances,  and  as 
many  fancy  balls,  six  bull-fights  and  two  cock- 
fights, all  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor. 

Among  her  other  manias,  which  were  apt  to 
be  but  transient,  however,  was  one  which  perhaps 
is  less  commendable  than  that  for  helping  the 
needy,  and  which  consisted  in  surrounding  herself 
with  dogs  and  cats,  devoting  herself  to  these  ani- 
mals with  an  affection  really  worthy  to  be  calkd 
love.  Lately,  since  she  had  lived  at  Socartes,  she 
had  kept  a  toy- terrier  which  had  been  brought 
to  her  as  a  commission  from  England  by  Ulises 
Buli,  the  head  of  the  machinery  department. 
This  was  a  delicate  and  slender  creature,  as  tricky 
and  amusing  as  a  child.  It  was  called  Lili,  and 
had  cost  a  small  fortune  in  London — as  dogs  go. 

On  fine  days  the  trio  walked  out  together ; 
when  it  was  wet  they  played  and  sang,  for  Sofia 
had  a  modest  pipe  which,  at  Socartes,  passed  for 


MARIANELA.  IO3 

singing.  The  deputy  engineer  had  a  deep  bass 
voice,  and  Teodoro  likewise  was  basso  profondo. 
Carlos  could  sing  but  a  little  higher,  so  that  the 
whole  effect  was  somewhat  like  a  priestly  choir,  in 
which  Sofia's  treble  came  out  as  if  she  were  a 
priestess  being  carried  off  to  be  immolated.  All 
the  pieces  they  sang  were  —  or  at  any  rate 
sounded  like — priests  offering  a  sacrifice,  and  a 
priestess  being  sacrificed. 

On  the  days  when  they  walked  far  they  took 
with  them  a  sort  of  picnic  afternoon  meal.  One 
evening — it  was  at  the  end  of  September,  and  six 
days  after  the  doctor's  arrival  at  the  mines — the 
party  were  returning  homewards  in  the  following 
order :  Lili,  Sofia,  Teodoro,  Carlos.  The  path  was 
too  narrow  to  allow  of  their  walking  two  and  two. 
Lili  wore  a  little  sky-blue  coat  or  gaberdine  with 
his  mistress's  initials  worked  upon  it;  Sofia  carried 
her  parasol  like  a  gun  over  her  shoulder,  and  Teo- 
doro had  his  stick  in  precisely  the  same  position 
with  his  hat  hanging  on  the  end  of  it ;  it  was  one 
of  his  favorite  whims  to  walk  out  bare-headed. 
They  were  passing  above  La  Trascava  when  Lili, 
leaving  the  path,  with  his  elastic  little  legs  like 
springs,  began  to  run  on  the  turf  that  covered  the 
slope  to  the  chasm.  First  he  ran,  but  then  he 
slipped  on  the  grass.  Sofia  gave  a  cry  of  terror. 


104  MARIANELA. 

Her  first  impulse,  prompted  by  an  almost  ma- 
ternal feeling,  was  to  run  after  the  little  beast  that 
was  in  no  real  danger;  but  her  husband  stopped 
her,  saying :  "  The  devil  may  have  Lili  if  he 
wants  him — but  he  will  come  back.  It  is  impos- 
sible to  go  down,  the  turf  here  is  so  slippery." 

"  Lili,  Lili,"  cried  Sofia,  hoping  that  her  touch- 
ing appeal  would  arrest  the  creature  on  the  road 
to  perdition,  and  bring  him  back  to  the  path  of 
virtue  and  duty.  But  the  tenderest  adjurations 
had  no  effect  on  the  rebellious  soul  of  Lili,  who 
went  lower  and  lower.  From  time  to  time  he 
looked  up  at  his  mistress  with  his  bright,  black 
eyes,  which  seemed  to  say  :  "  For  mercy's  sake 
do  not  be  so  foolish." 

At  the  large,  moss-grown,  white  rock,  which 
lay  like  a  lid  at  the  very  mouth  of  the  chasm,  Lili 
stopped.  All  stood  with  their  eyes  fixed  on  the 
spot,  and  they  at  once  perceived  something  mov- 
ing there.  They  supposed  it  to  be  some  beast  of 
prey  hiding  behind  the  rock ;  but  Sofia  gave 
another  shriek  of  astonishment  rather  than  of 
terror,  and  exclaimed : 

"It  is  Nela.  —  Nela  what  are  you  doing 
there  ?" 

On  hearing  her  name  called,  the  girl  appeared 
greatly  disturbed,  and  colored  deeply. 


MARIANELA.  IO5 

"What  are  you  doing  there,  mad  child  ?"  re- 
peated the  lady.  "Take  up  Lili  and  bring  him 
back  to  me.  Heaven  have  mercy  on  us  !  but  what 
next  will  that  creature  be  doing  ?  Just  look  at 
the  place  she  has  put  herself  in  !  It  is  all  your 
fault  that  Lili  went  down  there — what  an  exam- 
ple to  set  the  poor  little  animal.  It  is  all  your 
fault  that  he  behaved  in  this  naughty,  wilful 
way." 

"  That  child  is  a  perfect  limb  of  mischief,"  said 
Don  Carlos  to  his  brother.  "  Only  look  at  the 
place  she  has  got  to." 

While,  on  the  top  of  the  slope,  they  were  thus 
discussing  her,  Nela,  down  at  the  bottom,  was  try- 
ing to  catch  Lili,  who,  more  wilful  and  daring  than 
he  had  ever  been  before  in  the  whole  course  of 
his  monotonous  existence,  constantly  eluded  her 
grasp.  His  mistress  shouted  to  him  in  vain  to  "  be 
good  and  behave  himself,"  while  he,  ignoring  the 
most  elementary  principles  of  duty,  went  on  leap- 
ing and  frisking,  looking  up  at  her,  from  time  to 
time,  with  consummate  impudence,  as  though  to 
say :  "  My  good  lady,  just  go  on  with  your  walk 
and  leave  me  in  peace." 

At  last;  however,  the  sportive  little  beast  got 
entangled  among  the  briars  which  grew  in  the  hol- 
low, and  there  his  little  great-coat  got  him  into  dire 


106  MARIANELA. 

trouble ;  the  poor  dog,  finding  it  impossible  to  es- 
cape from  the  brushwood,  began  to  bark  lamenta- 
bly for  help. 

"  He  will  be  lost,  he  will  be  killed  !"  wailed  the 
Senora.  "  Nela,  Nela,  if  you  will  only  save  him, 
I  will  give  you  a  fine,  big  dog.  Save  him — go 
carefully — hold  fast." 

Nela  went  boldly  to  the  rescue ;  setting  her 
foot  on  the  brambles  and  stout-stemmed  creepers 
that  grew  over  the  rift,  and  holding  on  by  one 
hand  to  the  rock,  she  put  out  the  other  to  take 
hold  of  Lili's  tail,  by  which  she  pulled  him  out  of 
the  tangle  in  which  he  had  been  caught  Then, 
patting  and  coaxing  him,  she  mounted  in  triumph 
to  the  top  of  the  slope. 

"  It  is  your  fault,  all  your  fault,"  said  Sofia 
crossly,  and  boxing  the  dog's  ears  very  gently. 
"  What  on  earth  made  you  go  down  into  that  hole 
— you  know  he  goes  after  you  wherever  he  finds 
you — hussy  that  you  are  !" 

And  then  she  kissed  her  recovered  treasure 
and  gave  him  one  or  two  mild  slaps,  and  after 
having  assured  herself  that  his  precious  skin  was 
whole,  she  pulled  his  little  coat  straight,  which  had 
got  dragged  over  his  head,  and  gave  him  to  Nela, 
saying : 

"  Take  him,  and  carry  him  in  your  arms,  for  he 


MARIANELA.  IO/ 

must  be  tired,  and  such  a  long  scamper  may  do 
him  harm.  But  take  care  of  him — go  on  in  front. 
— Take  great  care  of  him — you  see  I  am  close 
behind  to  keep  an  eye  on  you." 

The  family  party  set  out  again,  with  Nela 
leading  the  way.  Lili  looked  at  his  mistress  over 
Nela's  shoulder,  and  seemed  to  say :  "  My  good 
mistress,  what  a  simpleton  you  are !" 

Teodoro  Golfin  had  said  not  a  word  during  the 
whole  of  Lili's  agitating  escapade,  but  when  they 
had  started  on  their  way  once  more  and  were 
crossing  the  fields,  where  the  three  could  walk 
abreast  without  inconvenience,  the  doctor  said  to 
his  brother's  wife  : 

"  I  cannot  but  think,  dear  Sofia,  that  you  are 
unreasonably  devoted  to  the  little  dog.  To  be 
sure  a  dog  that  cost  two  hundred  duros,  is  indeed 
a  dog  among  dogs.  Still,  I  cannot  but  ask  my- 
self how  it  is  that  you  have  spent  time  and  money 
in  making  a  great-coat  for  his  highness  the  terrier, 
while  it  has  never  occurred  to  you  to  buy  a  pair  of 
shoes  for  Nela." 

"  Shoes  for  Nela !"  exclaimed  Sofia  laughing. 
"  What  for,  I  should  like  to  know.  She  would  have 
worn  them  through  in  two  days.  You  may  laugh 
at  me  as  much  as  you  please — well,  I  admit  that 
my  affection  for  Lili  amounts  to  an  extravagance ; 


IO8  MARIANELA. 

still,  you  cannot  accuse  me  of  want  of  charity. — 
Noiv  indeed,  I  must  say,  should  I  ever  allow  you 
to  take  such  a  liberty,"  and  as  she  spoke  she  drew 
herself  up  with  a  solemn  look  of  offended  dignity. 
"  As  to  knowing  how  to  exercise  charity  with  due 
prudence  and  judgment,  I  believe  I  may  hold  my 
own  with  any  one,  be  it  whom  it  may — for  charity 
does  not  consist  merely  in  giving  without  rhyme 
or  reason,  not  knowing  whether  your  alms  are 
well  or  ill-bestowed.  Do  you  suppose  you  can 
teach  me  anything  ?  My  dear  Teodoro,  I  am  quite 
as  experienced  in  such  matters  as  you  are  in  the 
treatment  of  eyes." 

"I  know,  I  know,  my  dear. — You  have  done 
wonders.  You  need  not  tell  me  for  the  fiftieth  time 
of  all  the  dramatic  entertainments,  balls  and  bull- 
fights, you  have  got  up  for  the  benefit  of  the  poor, 
nor  of  the  lotteries,  which  have  brought  in  large 
sums ;  though,  after  providing  food  for  any  num- 
ber of  idle  vagabonds,  there  has  been  but  a  small 
fraction  left  for  the  sick  and  suffering  !  All  these 
facts  only  go  to  prove  to  my  mind  the  singular 
state  of  a  society,  which  cannot  be  charitable 
without  dancing,  bull-fights  or  lottery  tickets.— 
No,  we  need  not  discuss  all  that ;  I  know  and  ad- 
mire those  heroic  achievements ;  they  have  their 
good  side,  and  that  not  a  small  one.  But  you  and 


MARIANELA.  ICK) 

your  gay  friends  very  rarely  put  yourself  in  connec- 
tion with  any  poor  soul,  to  learn  from  his  own  lips 
the  cause  and  history  of  his  misery,  or  to  discern 
what  kind  of  wretchedness  it  is  that  oppresses  him 
— for  there  are,  actually,  some  troubles  so  extraor- 
dinary that  the  gift  of  a  few  coppers  can  do 
nothing  to  alleviate  them,  no,  nor  even  a  morsel  of 
bread." 

"  Here  we  have  our  philosopher  well  astride 
on  his  hobby,"  said  Sofia  spitefully.  "  Pray  how 
do  you  know  what  I  have  ever  done,  or  what  I 
ought  to  do  ?" 

"  Nay,  do  not  be  vexed,"  said  Golfin;  "  for  all 
my  discourse  tends  to  a  single  point,  and  that  is 
that  Nela  should  have  shoes." 

"Very  well,  then  to-morrow  morning  I  will 
buy  her  a  pair." 

"  No — for  I  will  buy  them  myself  this  evening. 
Do  not  poach  on  my  preserves,  Senora." 

"  Here  —  Nela,"  cried  the  lady,  seeing  that  she 
had  gone  some  distance  ahead.  "  Do  not  go  so 
fast ;  keep  in  sight  that  I  may  see  what  you  are 
about." 

"  Poor  little  creature !"  said  her  husband. 
"  Who  could  guess  she  was  sixteen  years 
old !" 

"  She    is   dreadfully    stunted,    miserable    little 


I  10  MARIANELA. 

thing !"  exclaimed  Sofia.  "  I  cannot  help  asking, 
why  God  should  permit  such  creatures  to  live  ? 
And  again  I  ask  myself,  what  in  the  world  can  be 
done  for  her  ?  Nothing — nothing,  but  to  feed 
and  clothe  her  after  a  fashion — but  you  see,  she 
tears  everything  she  puts  on.  She  cannot  labor 
because  she  faints  away — she  has  not  strength 
enough  to  do  any  kind  of  Work.  She  skips  from 
stone  to  stone,  or  climbs  the  trees,  playing  and 
chattering  the  whole  day  long  and  singing  like  the 
birds ;  what  clothes  she  has  are  soon  reduced  to 
rags.  .  .  ." 

"And  yet,"  said  Carlos,  "I  have  noticed  that 
she  is  very  intelligent.  There  is  a  great  deal  of 
acuteness  and  cleverness  under  that  simple  exterior 
and  wild  rusticity.  No,  no,  Nela  is  no  fool  by  a 
long  way.  If  any  one  had  taken  the  trouble  to 
teach  her  anything,  she  would  have  learnt  it  better, 
perhaps,  than  most  children.  Would  you  believe 
it  ?  Nela  has  a  great  imagination ;  but  lacking,  as 
she  does,  the  most  rudimentary  knowledge,  it  has 
of  course,  made  her  sentimental  and  super- 
stitious." 

"  In  point  of  fact  she  is  in  the  condition  of  all 
primitive  races,"  said  Teodoro.  "  She  is  at  the 
pastoral  stage  of  civilization." 

"  Only  yesterday,"   Carlos  went  on,    "  I  was 


MARIANELA.  1 1  I 

passing  by  La  Trascava  and  I  saw  her  sitting  ex- 
actly where  we  found  her  again  just  now.  I  called 
her  and  made  her  come  to  me,  and  I  asked  her 
what  she  was  doing  there ;  and  with  the  most  per- 
fect simplicity  she  told  me  she  was  talking  with 
her  mother. — You  know,  perhaps,  that  Nela's 
mother  threw  herself  into  that  chasm." 

"  That  is  to  say  that  she  killed  herself,"  said 
Sofia.  "  She  was  a  woman  of  bad  character  and 
worse  feeling,  from  all  I  have  heard  of  her.  Carlos 
was  not  living  here  then,  but  they  say  she  drank  like 
a  stoker.  And  I  ask  you  :  Do  these  vile  creatures, 
who  end  a.  life  of  sin  by  committing  the  greatest 
crime  of  all — Suicide — deserve  any  pity  from  the 
human  race  ?  There  are  things  too  horrible  to 
contemplate — wretches  that  ought  never  to  have 
been  born.  Teodoro  may  argue  as  much  as  he 
likes,  but  I  cannot  help  asking  you.  ..." 

"  Ask  nothing,  my  dear  sister,"  said  Teodoro 
warmly.  "  For  I  could  only  reply  that  the  suicide 
deserves  our  deepest  and  fullest  pity.  So  far  as 
abuse  goes,  heap  it  on  her  by  all  means,  and  as 
much  as  you  please  ;  but  at  the  same  time  it  might 
be  as  well  to  enquire  what  were  the  causes  that 
brought  her  to  such  a  fearful  extremity  of  despera- 
tion— and  I  may  add  that  if  society  had  not 
wholly  abandoned  her  and  left  her  no  way  out  but 


112  MARIANELA. 

the  yawning  door  of  that  hideous  abyss  which 
seemed  to  invite  her.  ..." 

"  Abandoned  by  society !  Well,  some  must 
be. .  .  ."  said  Sofia  flippantly.  "Society  cannot  take 
care  of  every  one.  Look  at  the  statistics  of  popu- 
lation—  only  look,  and  you  will  see  how  many 
poor  there  are  to  provide  for.  Besides,  supposing 
society  does  overlook  some — what  is  religion 
for  ?" 

"  I  am  speaking  of  those  poor  wretches  who 
add  to  all  their  other  miseries,  ignorance,  which  is 
the  greatest  of  all.  An  ignorant  soul,  debased  and 
superstitious,  has  none  but  the  vaguest  and  ab- 
surdest  ideas  of  God.  The  sense  of  something 
Great  and  Unknown,  instead  of  withholding  him, 
impels  him  to  crime.  It  is*  rarely  indeed  that  the 
thought  of  religion  is  of  any  good  to  those  who 
vegetate  in  stolid  ignorance.  No  intelligent  friend 
ever  goes  near  them,  neither  master  nor  priest ; 
the  only  superior  they  ever  come  into  contact 
with,  is  the  judge  who  tries  them. 

"  It  is  strange  to  see  how  inexorably  you  con- 
demn what,  after  all,  is  your  own  work !"  he  went 
on,  twisting  the  stick  on  which  his  hat  was  still 
mounted.  "  You  stand  looking  straight  before 
you,  seeing  at  the  very  threshold  of  your  own 
comfortable  homes  a  crowd  of  neglected  creatures, 


MARIANELA.  113 

deprived  of  everything  that  childhood  needs,  from 
parents  to  playthings — you  see  them,  I  say,  with- 
out its  ever  occurring  to  you  to  raise  them  an  inch 
in  the  world,  by  telling  them  that  they  too  are 
human  beings,  and  giving  them  some  of  the  ideas 
they  so  deplorably  lack,  without  ever  dreaming  of 
ennobling  them  by  lifting  them  out  of  their  brutal- 
izing, mechanical  toil,  to  some  intelligent  work ; 
you  see  them  dwelling  in  filthy  hovels,  ill-fed,  sink- 
ing lower  day  by  day  in  their  savage  squalor,  and 
it  never  occurs  to  you  to  spare  for  them  a  little  of 
the  comfort  and  luxury  that  surround  you  !  You 
save  all  your  energies  to  declaim  against  murder, 
robbery  and  suicide,  without  ever  reflecting  that 
you  are,  in  fact,  keeping  open  school  for  these 
three  crimes." 

"  You  seem  to  forget  that  there  are  houses  of 
refuge,  hospitals,  asylums.  ..."  said  Sofia  tartly. 
"  Read  statistics,  Teodoro,  and  you  will  see  the 
number  of  miserable  creatures.  .  .  .  Read  statistics." 

"  I  do  not  read  statistics,  my  dear  sister,  and 
your  statistics  count  for  nothing  with  me.  Asylums 
are  good  —  not  that  they  can  ever  solve  the  great 
problem  of  orphanage.  A  hapless  orphan,  drop- 
ped in  the  streets  or  in  the  fields,  bereft  of  all 
personal  affection,  and  cared  for  only  by  a  town 
council — rarely,  indeed,  is  the  vacuum  filled  which 

s 


114  MARIANELA. 

yawns  in  his  soul  for  the  love  of  a  parent — not  to 
speak  of  the  vacuum  where  self-respect,  honor, 
and  responsibility  ought  to  be,  and  so  rarely  are 
found.  And  on  that  point  I  have  an  idea  of  my 
own — but,  perhaps,  it  will  appear  to  you  ab- 
surd  " 

"Tell  us,  at  any  rate." 

"  The  problem  of  orphanhood,  and  the  mis- 
eries of  infancy,  will  never  be  completely  and 
finally  solved,  any  more  than  the  rest  of  our  great 
social  problems ;  still,  it  will  be  lightened  when 
custom,  supported  by  law — yes,  by  law,  you  see 
I  am  in  earnest — when  custom  and  law  insist  that 
every  orphan,  whatever  its  birth — do  not  laugh — 
has  a  right  to  claim  adoption  by  some  married 
couple  in  easy  circumstances,  and  who  have  no 
children.  By  this  plan,  there  will  be  no  childless 
parents,  and  no  fatherless  children." 

"  Yes,  by  this. plan,"  retorted  Sofia,  "we  should 
be  parents  to  Nela  !" 

"  And  why  not  ?"  said  Teodoro.  "  At  the  same 
time  you  would  not  waste  two  hundred  duros  in 
buying  a  dog,  nor  the  livelong  blessed  day  in  talk- 
ing nonsense  to  his  highness,  Master  Lili." 

"And  why  are  rich  bachelors  to  be  exempt 
under  this  delightful  law  ?  Why  should  not  they 
also  be  burthened,  each  with  his  orphan  ?" 


MARIANELA.  I  I  5 

"  I  have  no  objection.  .  .  ."  said  the  doctor;  he 
was  looking  at  the  ground.  "  But  what  is  this  ? 

Blood  ?" 

They  all  looked  down,  and  at  regular  intervals 
they  saw  small  spots  of  blood. 

"  Mercy  !"  cried  Sofia,  covering  her  eyes.  "  It 
is  Nela — see,  it  is  where  she  has  trodden ;  these 
are  her  footmarks." 

"  Oh  yes  !  I  see.  It  was  when  she  went  into 
the  brambles  to  fetch  your  precious  dog.  Nela, 
come  here." 

Nela,  whose  right  foot  was  bleeding  a  good 
deal,  came  hobbling  back  again. 

"  Give  me  my  poor  Lili,"  said  the  lady,  taking 
the  dog  out  of  the  ragged  child's  arms.  "  Do  not 
hurt  him  ;  does  it  hurt  you  much  ?  Poor  little 
thing.  —  Oh!  how  it  is  bleeding. — I  cannot  bear 
to  look  at  it."  And  Sofia  turned  her  back  to 
spare  her  sensitive  nerves,  hugging  Lili  more 
closely; 

"  Let  us  see  what  has  happened,"  said  Teo- 
doro,  lifting  Nela  up  and  seating  her  on  a  high 
stone  that  was  at  hand.  Then,  putting  on  his 
spectacles,  he  said  :  "It  is  quite  a  trifle,  only  a  few 
scratches ;  there  is  a  thorn  in  here  I  rather  think. 
— That  hurts  you  ?  Yes,  just  so,  here  is  the  vil- 
lain.— Wait  a  minute.  Now,  Sofia  if  you  cannot 


Il6  MARIANELA. 

i 

look  on  at  a  surgical  operation,  you  had  better 
walk  on." 

While  his  sister  went  slowly  forward  to  save 
her  nervous  system  this  terrible  shock,  Golfin  took 
a  small  case  out  of  his  pocket  and  a  pair  of 
tweezers  out  of  the  case,  and  in  less  than  a  wink- 
ing the  thorn  was  extracted. 

"That  is  a  brave  little  woman,"  he  said  to 
Nela,  who  had  not  even  winced.  "  Now  we  will 
tie  this  foot  up."  And  he  bound  it  round  with 
his  handkerchief.  Marianela  jumped  down  to 
walk  and  Carlos  offered  her  his  hand. 

"No,  no — come  here,"  said  Teodoro.  He 
took  the  little  girl  under  the  arms,  and  with  a  rapid 
and  dexterous  twist  perched  her  on  his  right 
shoulder. 

"  If  you  do  not  feel  safe  hold  on  to  my  hair," 
he  said.  "  It  will  not  come  off.  Now,  you  must 
carry  the  stick  with  the  hat." 

"  What  a  ridiculous  sight !"  said  Sofia,  in  fits  of 
laughter  as  they  came  up  with  her.  "  Teodoro, 
with  Nela  on  his  shoulder,  and  then  the  stick  and 
Gessler's  hat  on  the  top.  ..." 


MARIANELA.  1 1/ 


CHAPTER  X. 

NOBODY'S  CHILDREN. 

"  THERE  you  see  a  man  ready  for  anything 
and  everything,  my  dear  Sofia,"  said  Teodoro. 
"  It  is  the  result  of  our  education,  is  it  not, 
Carlos  ?  of  having  had  no  coddling  in  our  child- 
hood, and  having  been  accustomed  from  our  ten- 
derest  infancy  to  the  idea  that  no  one  could  be 
our  inferior  ?  Men  who  have  made  themselves, 
as  we  have  done,  who,  without  any  mortal  help  nor 
any  safeguard  but  strong  will  and  high  ambition, 
have  been  able  to  triumph  in  the  struggle  for  exist- 
ence— the  devil's  in  it,  but  they  are  the  only  people 
who  really  know  how  to  help  the  helpless  !  I  will 
not  tell  you  half  the  things  I  have  been  able  to 
do  in  my  life — treating  my  neighbor  as  myself — 
for  fear  of  falling  into  an  ugly  trick  of  singing  my 
own  praises ;  for  fear  too  of  making  you  envious, 
in  spite  of  your  raffles  and  benevolent  lotteries — 
enough  of  that." 

"Nay,  tell  us,  or  tell  us  some  other  time." 
"  No,  no,  such  things  should  be  kept  secret  for 
modesty's  sake.     I  am  bound  to  confess  that  I 
cannot  boast  of   any  considerable  store  of   that 


I  1 8  MARIANELA. 

lovely  grace ;  I  am  not  lacking  in  vanity,  and  one 
of  the  things  I  am  vainest  of,  is  of  having  been  a 
beggar,  of  having  asked  charity  from  door  to 
door,  of  having  walked  barefoot  with  my  brother 
Carlos,  and  slept  in  corners  under  door- ways,  with- 
out a  roof,  without  shelter,  without  a  home  of  any 
kind.  Some  wonderful  spirit  of  energy  and  de- 
termination burned  within  me — whence  it  came  I 
know  not ;  but  I  felt  that  before  us  lay  two  paths, 
one  to  prison  and  one  to  glory.  I  took  my  poor 
little  brother  on  my  shoulders — just  as  I  am  car- 
rying Nela — and  I  said  :  '  Our  Father  which  art 
in  Heaven — save  us!'  And  he  saved  us.  I  learnt 
to  read,  and  then  I  taught  my  brother ;  I  served 
many  masters,  who  gave  me  food  and  let  me  go 
to  school.  I  saved  my  pittance.  I  bought  a 
money-box,  and  scraped  enough  together  to  buy 
some  books.  How  I  began  medicine,  I  do  not 
know ;  but  somehow  I  did,  while  my  brother  was 
earning  a  living  as  an  errand  boy  in  a  shop." 

"What  are  you  talking  about?"  exclaimed 
Sofia  much  annoyed,  for  this  was  a  theme  she 
particularly  disliked.  "  I  cannot  help  asking ; 
what  is  the  use  of  recalling  all  these  childish  de- 
tails ?  Besides,  you  exaggerate  them  greatly." 

"  I  exaggerate  nothing,"  said  Teodoro  with 
triumphant  jollity.  "  Just  listen,  Senora,  and  say 


.  MARIANELA.  119 

nothing.  I  speak  of  what  I  know  with  the  author- 
ity of  experience.  Hear  me  all  ye  poor,  all  ye 
helpless  ones,  and  ye  forsaken  little  ones !  I  took 
to  medicine,  God  knows  how;  I  learnt,  God  knows 
how.  A  worthy  man  —  blessings  on  his  memory! 
gave  me  good  counsel  and  helped  me  with  money ; 
I  loved  the  science,  but  how  could  I  study  without 
ceasing  to  work  for  my  living  ?  This  was  a  terri- 
ble dilemma.  Do  you  remember,  Carlos,  when 
we  both  went  to  ask  for  employment  in  the  bar- 
ber's shop,  in  the  old  calle  de  Cofreros  ?  *  Never 
in  our  lives  had  either  of  us  had  a  razor  in  his  hand, 
but  we  had  to  earn  our  bread  by  shaving.  At  first 
we  only  looked  on — do  you  remember  Carlos  — 
and  then  we  wielded  the  noble  instruments  our- 
selves.— Bleeding  was  the  making  of  us.  Then  I 
began  to  study  anatomy ;  a  noble,  a  glorious 
science  !  but  my  school- work  became  a  serious 
matter,  and  I  had  to  give  up  working  for  the 
worthy  barber. — He  cried,  positively  cried,  the  day 
I  left  him ;  he  gave  me  two  duros,  and  his  wife 
made  me  a  present  of  a  pair  of  her  husband's  old 
trousers. — Then  I  went  as  a  valet.  God  was  always 
merciful  in  giving  me  good  masters.  My  love  of 
study  interested  these  dear,  kind  people,  and  they 
allowed  me  as  much  spare  time  as  possible.  I  sat 

*  Trunkmaker's  street. 


1 2O  MARIANELA. 

up  to  study;  nay,  I  studied  in  my  sleep.  I  was  like 
a  monomaniac,  for  while  I  did  the  washing,  I  re- 
peated the  names  of  the  different  parts  of  the  human 
frame.  I  remember,  that  as  I  brushed  my  master's 
clothes,  I  studied  muscular  anatomy — as  I  folded 
a  sleeve  I  would  say  to  myself:  'deltoid,  biceps, 
supinator,  fie x or,  cubitalis ; '  and  over  his  trousers 
I  would  repeat,  'glutaeus,  psoas,  gemellus,  tibialis. ' 
'In  that  house  they  used  to  give  me  broken  food, 
which  I  carried  to  my  brother,  who  was  living 
with  a  worthy  man  who  bought  and  sold  old 
clothes.  Do  you  remember,  Carlos  ?" 

"  I  remember  well,"  said  Carlos  with  feeling. 
"  And  I  am  grateful  to  the  good  soul  who  gave 
me  a  roof  over  my  head  in  return  for  some  trifling 
service  in  keeping  his  accounts.  And  it  was  there 
that  I  was  so  lucky  as  to  come  across  the  retired 
Colonel,  who  taught  me  the  elements  of  mathe- 
matics." 

"  Well !  you  have  not  a  rag  that  you  blush  to 
display  to  all  the  world !"  snorted  Sofia. 

"  My  brother  asked  me  for  bread,"  Teodoro 
went  coolly  on,  "and  my  answer  was:  'Bread  ? 
work  at  mathematics.'  One  day  my  master  gave 
me  tickets  of  admission  to  the  Theatre  de  la  Cruz  ; 
I  took  my  brother,  and  we  enjoyed  it  enormously, 
but-  Carlos  caught  a  cold  and  inflammation  of  the 


MARIANELA.  121 

lungs.  That  was  a  dreadful,  a  terrible  business ; 
it  was  a  blow  at  the  very  root  of  our  exis- 
tence, a  shot  in  our  backbone.  But  who  is  cast 
down  ?  On  we  had  to  go.  —  He  must  be  cured. 
A  physician  who  had  taken  a  great  fancy  to  me, 
undertook  to  doctor  him." 

"  It  was  nothing  less  than  a  miracle  that  he 
saved  my  life  in  that  squalid  hole — a  perfect 
museum  of  old  clothes,  old  iron,  and  old 
leather." 

"  God  was  on  our  side — I  see  it  plainly.  Oh  ! 
I  knew  very  well  in  whom  I  trusted,"  Teodoro 
went  on,  with  the  fervid  rapid  eloquence,  which 
was  as  characteristic  of  the  man,  as  his  black  elf- 
locks  and  leonine  countenance.  "  But,  for  my 
brother  to  have  medicine,  I  had  to  do  without 
clothes.  The  Pharmacopeia  did  not  admit  of 
tailors'  bills — nay,  prescription  after  prescription — 
first  my  cloak  went,  then  my  overcoat,  then  my 
shoes  were  turned  into  pills.  However,  my  mas- 
ter stood  by  me.  I  got  some  clothes  once  more, 
and  my  brother  was  outside  the  house  again.  The 
doctor  said  :  '  He  will  get  quite  well  in  the  coun- 
try.'—  'The  country,'  said  I,  and  I  thought  it 
over ;  then  he  may  go  to  the  School  of  Mines. 
My  brother  was  a  good  mathematician,  I  taught 
him  some  chemistry,  he  soon  took  a  fancy  to 


122  MARIANELA. 

rocks  and  stones,  and  before  he  went  into  the 
school  he  had  begun  going  out  into  the  fields  to 
pick  up  pebbles.  Well,  I  meanwhile  went  on  my 
way,  beaten  by  winds  and  waves ;  every  day  I 
knew  something  more  of  medicine.  A  famous 
operator  took  me  as  his  assistant ;  then  I  was  no 
longer  a  mere  menial — I  was  a  servant  to  science. 
My  master  fell  ill,  I  nursed  him  like  a  Brother  of 
Charity — but  he  died,  leaving  me  a  legacy.  God 
bless  me  !  but  it  was  a  fortune  !  It  consisted  of  a 
walking-stick,  a  machine  for  making  cigars,  a 
hunting-horn,  and  four  thousand  reales  in  money. 
My  brother  bought  books  and  I  bought  some 
clothes,  and  as  soon  as  I  was  decently  dressed,  I 
began  to  get  patients.  It  really  seemed  as  if  folks 
fell  ill  on  purpose  to  give  me  employment.  On — 
straight  on !  Years  and  years  went  by ;  at  last, 
after  many  miseries  I  saw,  far  off,  the  way  to  a 
refuge.  Still,  my  brother  and  I  sailed  on  without 
any  too  severe  toil,  and  we  were  never  melancholy; 
God  smiled  upon  our  souls.  Well,  indeed,  for  us! 
God  held  out  his  hand  to  us,  as  it  were.  I  began 
to  study  the  eye  and  soon  could  operate  for  cata- 
ract, but  I  wanted  something  more  than  this.  I 
was  earning  money,  no  doubt,  but  my  brother 
cost  me  all  I  earned.  At  last,  however,  Carlos 
passed  out  of  the  schools.  Three  cheers  for  the 


MARIANELA.  123 

brave — none  but  the  brave  •fain  the  day.  I  saw 
him  settled  at  Riotinto  with  a  good  salary,  and 
then  off  I  went  to  America.  I  was  a  sort  of 
Columbus,  the  Columbus  of  labor ;  a  sort  of 
Cortes  ;  I  discovered  a  New  World  for  myself,  and 
having  discovered  it,  I  conquered  it." 

"  You  are  your  own  trumpeter,"  said  Sofia 
laughing. 

"  If  there  are  still  heroes  to  be  found  you  are 
one  of  them,"  said  Carlos  with  eager  admiration 
for  his  brother. 

"  Well,  set  to  work  now,  noble  Demi-god,"  said 
Sofia,  "  crown  your  achievement  by  working  a 
miracle,  and  restore  to  sight  a  man  blind  from  his 
birth.  —  Look,  there  is  Don  Francisco  coming  out 
to  meet  us." 

And,  in  fact,  mounting  the  ridge  which  shuts 
in  the  mines  to  the  west,  they  had  come  to  Aldea- 
corba,  and  past  the  house  of  Penaguilas,  who, 
pulling  on  his  coat  in  the  utmost  haste  now  came 
hurrying  towards  them.  Darkness  was  falling 
fast 


124  MARIANELA. 


CHAPTER   XI. 

THE   PATRIARCH    OF   ALDEACORBA. 

"  THE  cows  are  just  being  milked,"  he  began, 
without  wishing  them  good-evening.  "  I  thought 
you  would  all  like  some  milk.  I  hope  to  see  you 
well,  Sefiora  Sofia — and  you  Don  Teodoro.  The 
sight  of  you  is  good  for  sore  eyes.  But  what  is 
the  matter  with  Maria  Canela — a  little  lame  paw  ? 
How  long  have  you  been  so  spoiled,  little  one  ?" 

The  whole  party  turned  into  the  court- yard. 
They  could  hear  the  deep  lowing  of  the  cows, 
which  had  just  been  driven  to  their  stables,  and 
the  homely  sound,  with  the  fresh  country  smell  of 
the  hay,  which  the  laborers  were  carrying  from 
the  lofts,  soothed  the  senses  and  the  mind.  The 
doctor  seated  Nela  on  a  stone  bench,  while  she, 
speechless  with  surprise  and  respect,  dared  not 
budge  an  inch,  but  could  only  wonder  at  this  de- 
lightful state  of  things. 

"  And  where  is  Pablo  ?"  the  engineer  enquired. 

"  He  is  just  gone  down  into  the  garden,"  said 
Senor  de  Penaguilas,  as  he  offered  Sofia  a  rustic 
seat.  ".You  might  run  off  and  join  him  Nela." 

"  No,  no,  I  do  not  wish  her  to  go  yet,"  said 


MARIANELA.  125 

Teodoro  detaining  her.  "  Besides,  she  is  going  to 
have  some  milk  with  us." 

"  Do  you  wish  to  see  my  son  this  evening  ?" 
asked  Penaguilas. 

"  No,  yesterday's  examination  was  quite  satis- 
factory," replied  Golfin.  "  The  operation  can  be 
performed." 

"  And  successfully  ?" 

"  Ah  ! — as  to  that  I  cannot  say.  How  great 
a  pleasure  it  would  be  to  give  sight  to  a  young 
fellow  who  so  richly  deserves  it,  I  need  not  tell 
you  !  Your  son  has  a  most  superior  intelligence, 
a  brilliant  imagination,  and  a  most  delightful 
nature.  His  total  ignorance  of  the  outer,  visible 
world,  only  throws  his  beautiful  qualities  into  re- 
lief; they  stand  out  in  conspicuous  simplicity,  with 
the  naked  charm  and  dignity  of  a  work  of  Nature, 
untouched  and  unspoiled  by  the  hand  of  man. 
He  is  full  of  idealism,  it  affects  all  his  thoughts — 
a  grand  and  beautiful  idealism.  It  reminds  me  of 
a  colossal  mass  of  unwrought  marble — a  block  as 
it  lies  in  the  quarry.  He  knows  nothing  of  reality, 
he  lives  a  charmed  life,  a  life  of  pure  illusion.  If 
we  could  but  give  him  sight !  Still,  I  say  to  my- 
self— supposing  that  by  giving  him  sight  we 
should  make  him  a  man  instead  of  an  angel.  —  It 
is  a  question  that  raises  doubts  in  my  mind.  How- 


126  MARIANELA. 

ever,  we  are  bound  to  try  to  make  a  man  of  him ; 
it  is  the  duty  of  science ;  we  will  drag  him  out  of 
the  world  of  fancy  into  that  of  reality,  and  then, 
with  his  powerful  mind,  he  would  rapidly  gain  ac- 
curate information  and  sound  judgment.  He 
would  soon  acquire  the  invaluable  power  of  esti- 
mating the  true  relative  value  of  things." 

Three  cups  of  milk  were  now  brought  in,  white, 
warm,  fragrant,  and  frothy  to  the  very  rim. 
Penaguilas  handed  a  cup  first  to  Sofia,  and  the  two 
gentlemen  took  the  others;  but  Teodoro  Golfin 
offered  his  to  Nela,  who  was  overwhelmed  with 
bashfulness  and  refused  to  touch  it. 

"  Come,  little  woman,"  said  Sofia,  "  do  not  be 
so  rude ;  take  what  is  given  you." 

"Another  cup  of  milk  for  Don  Teodoro,"  said 
Don  Francisco  to  the  servant.  And  then  they 
heard  the  milk  as  it  flowed  into  the  pails  from  the 
full  udders  of  the  cows. 

"  He  will  appreciate  the  true  relative  value  of 
things,"  said  Don  Francisco,  repeating  the  doctor's 
last  words,  which  had  made  a  deep  impression  on 
his  mind.  "That  is  an  admirable  observation, 
Don  Teodoro.  And  with  regard  to  the  subject 
under  discussion,  I  must  explain  to  you  the  doubts 
I  have  felt  for  some  days  past.  But  I  may  as  well 
sit  down."  And  Don  Francisco  seated  himself  on 


MARIANELA.  \2"J 

a  stool  he  had  in  his  hand.  The  others  had  al- 
ready been  accommodated  with  chairs  brought  out 
of  the  house,  and  Nela  was  still  perched  on  the 
stone  bench.  The  milk  she  had  drunk  as  she  was 
bidden  had  left  a  thin  white  moustache  on  her 
upper  lip. 

"  I  must  tell  you  Don  Teodoro  that  for  some 
days  I  have  been  very  uneasy  at  the  excited  state 
in  which  my  son  has  been ;  I  attribute  it  to  the 
hope  that  has  been  held  out  to  him — but  still, 
there  is  something  else — something  more  than 
that.  You  know  that  I  am  in  the  habit  of  read- 
ing to  him  out  of  various  books.  I  believe  that 
this  reading  has  done  much  to  fire  his  imagination 
and  instruct  his  mind,  and  that  many  ideas  have 
been  developed  in  his  brain,  which  are,  as  it  were, 
above  the  comprehension  of  a  blind  man.  I  do 
not  know  whether  I  am  making  myself  clear." 

"  Perfectly." 

"  There  is  no  end  to  his  discussions  and  argu- 
ments ;  I  am  astounded  by  the  depth  and  acuteness 
of  his  remarks,  though  I  feel  that  his  knowledge 
is  mixed  up  with  a  thousand  misconceptions,  from 
want  of  method  and  from  his  ignorance  of  the 
visible  world." 

"It  could  not  be  otherwise." 

"  But  the  strangest  thing  is  that,  carried  away 


128  MARIANELA. 

by  his  imagination — which  is  like  a  young  Her- 
cules fettered  with  chains  within  a  dungeon,  and 
struggling  to  burst  its  bonds  and  break  down 
walls " 

"  Good,  very  good,  well  said." 

"  His  imagination,  I  was  saying,  cannot  rest  in 
the  darkness  of  his  sense,  and  strives  to  reach  our 
world  of  daylight,  making  up  for  his  want  of  sight 
by  the  boldness  of  its  assumptions.  Pablo  has  a 
wonderful  spirit  of  enquiry,  but  it  is  like  a  noble 
bird  whose  wings  are  clipped.  For  some  few  days 
he  has  been  almost  delirious ;  he  does  not  sleep 
and  his  passion  for  information  has  been  almost 
madness.  At  all  hours  of  the  day  he  asks  for 
some  new  book,  and  at  every  pause  he  makes  the 
keenest  observations,  but  with  such  a  mixture  of 
simple  innocence,  that  he  makes  me  laugh.  He 
asserts  and  maintains  the  absurdest  things,  and  if 
I  contradict  him — I  am  really  afraid  of  his  going 
out  of  his  mind — of  his  brain  softening.  If  you 
could  only  see  how  melancholy  and  how  disputa- 
tious he  sometimes  is.  He  takes  up  an  idea  and, 
come  what  may,  it  is  impossible  to  get  it  out  of 
his  head.  Now,  for  some  days,  he  has  had  a  fixed 
idea,  which  is  as  touching  as  it  is  preposterous. 
He  will  have  it  that  Nela  is  pretty." 

They  all  laughed,  and  Nela  turned  scarlet. 


MARIANELA.  129 

"  That  Nela  is  pretty !"  exclaimed  Teodoro 
kindly.  "  Well,  and  so  she  is." 

"  Oh !  sweetly  pretty,  particularly  with  that 
moustache !"  said  Sofia. 

"  She  has  a  dear  little  face  of  her  own,"  re- 
peated Teodoro,  putting  his  hand  under  her  chin ; 
"  Sofia,  lend  me  your  handkerchief.  Come,  we 
will  get  rid  of  the  moustache." 

Teodoro  returned  the  handkerchief  to  Sofia 
after  wiping  Nela's  face.  Don  Francisco  told  the 
girl  to  go  and  join  the  blind  boy,  and  she  hobbled 
away. 

"  And  if  I  contradict  him,"  he  then  went  on, 
"  my  son  tells  me  that,  perhaps  the  gift  of  sight 
has  weakened  my  perception  of  the  true  aspect  of 
things — a  quaiat  garadox^" 

"  Do  not  contradict  him  at  all,  and  for  the 
preseht  discontinue  your  readings.  For  a  few  days 
we  must  adopt  a  regimen  of  absolute  tranquillity. 
The  brain  must  be  treated  with  the  utmost  con- 
sideration before  attempting  any  operation  of  this 
kind." 

"  If  it  is  indeed  God's  will  that  my  son  should 
receive  his  sight,"  said  Penaguilas  devoutly,  "  I 
shall  regard  you  as  the  greatest  and  most  beneficent 
of  men.  The  darkness  of  his  eyes  is  the  darkness  of 
my  life;  that  black  shadow  has  saddened  all  my 

9 


130  MARIANELA. 

days,  and  clouds  all  the  wealth  and  ease  of  which  I 
am  master.  For  I  am  rich — but  of  what  use  are 
riches  ?  How  can  I  care  for  the  things  he  cannot 
see.  Only  a  month  ago  I  fell  heir  to  a  fine  for- 
tune— you  know,  Don  Carlos,  my  cousin  Faustino 
died  at  Matamoros.  He  had  no  children,  so  my 
brother  Manuel  and  I  are  his  heirs.  It  is  throw- 
ing pearls  before  swine — not  as  regards  my 
brother,  who  has  a  daughter,  a  sweet  girl,  old 
enough  to  marry — but  so  far  as  I  am  con- 
cerned, a  wretched  man  who  can  never  see  his  son 
enjoy  the  best  pleasures  of  a  respectable  and  easy 
position." 

A  long  silence  followed,  interrupted  only  by  the 
gentle  lowing  of  the  cows  in  the  adjoining  stable. 

"  And  then,"  added  the  worthy  father  in  mel- 
ancholy tones,  "  he  knows  nothing  of  the  pleasures 
of  work,  the  greatest  pleasure  of  all.  Igndrant, 
as  he  is,  of  the  beauties  of  Nature,  what  can  he 
know  of  the  delights  of  the  country  or  the  charms 
of  agriculture  ?  I  cannot  imagine  how  God  can 
bear  to  deprive  a  human  creature  of  the  pleasure 
of  admiring  a  fat  beast,  a  tree  loaded  with  pears, 
or  a  green  pasture;  of  seeing  the  fruits  of  the 
earth  in  their  abundance ;  of  sending  out  the 
laborers  to  their  day's  toil,  and  reading  the  signs 
of  the  weather  in  the  sky.  For  him  life  is  simply 


MARIANELA.  131 

a  fevered  dream — it  is  lonely  too ;  solitary,  for  he 
can  never  have  the  comfort  of  a  family  round 
him.  When  I  die  what  family  will  the  poor  blind 
boy  have  ?  He  will  not  want  to  marry,  nor  will  he 
find  a  woman  of  good  family  who  would  engage 
herself  to  him,  in  spite  of  his  wealth  ;  nor,  indeed, 
could  I  advise  him  to  marry.  So  that  when  Don 
Teodoro  gave  me  a  hope,  I  felt  as  if  heaven  was 
opened  to  me;  I  had  visions  of  a  young  and 
happy  and  sensible  marriage ;  cherubs  • —  my 
grandchildren  —  fluttered  round  me;  I  saw  my 
tombstone  graced  and  fragrant  with  the  blossoms 
of  a  future  generation,  and  the  loving  care  which 
even  after  death  should  follow  me  to  the  grave.  — 
You  cannot  enter  into  all  this ;  you  cannot  know 
how  my  brother,  who  is  as  good  as  gold,  God 
bless  him  ! — as  soon  as  he  heard  of  my  hopes,  be- 
gan to  plot  and  plan  and  dream.  —  Here,  this  is 
what  he  says" — and  he  took  out  a  parcel  of  let- 
ters which  he  turned  over  for  a  few  minutes  with- 
out finding  the  one  he  wanted.  —  "Well,  to  make 
a  long  story  short,  he  was  beside  himself  with 
delight  and  he  said  to  me :  '  I  will  marry  my  Flor- 
entina  to  your  Pablo,  and  so  we  shall  get  com- 
pound interest  on  the  half  million  of  pesos  left  by 
cousin  Faustino.' — I  can  see  him,  poor  old 
Manuel,  rubbing  his  hands  and  strutting  about  as 

9* 


132  MARIANELA. 

his  way  is  when  he  has  hit  on  a  good  idea.  I  am 
expecting  him  and  his  daughter  to  arrive  at  any 
hour ;  they  are  coming  to  stay  with  me  for  the 
4th  of  October,  and  to  see  what  comes  of  this  at- 
tempt to  bless  my  son  with  the  light  of  day." 

By  this  time  it  was  growing  dark  and  the  party 
of  four  became  aware  of  a  most  appetizing  vapor 
issuing  from  the  house,  and  announcing  a  savory 
farm-supper.  The  village  patriarch,  who  seemed 
the  very  incarnation  of  the  spirit  of  the  place — a 
tranquil  melancholy — spoke  again  presently :  "  My 
brother's  happiness  and  my  own  depends  on  my 
having  a  son,  whom  I  may  propose  as  a  husband 
for  his  daughter,  who  is  as  sweet  and  fair  as  the 
Holy  Virgin,  as  we  see  her  represented  when  the 
angel  of  the  Lord  comes  to  say :  '  The  Lord  is 
with  thee.'  My  blind  boy  is  not  the  man — but  my 
Pablo,  with  his  eyesight,  would  realize  my  fondest 
dreams  and  bring  the  blessing  of  God  into  my 
house." 

They  were  all  silent,  deeply  impressed  by  the 
worthy  father's  simple  and  pathetic  utterances,  and 
he  himself  raised  his  rough,  brown  hand,  hardened 
by  labor,  to  wipe  away  a  tear. 

"  What  have  you  to  say  to  all  this  ?"  Carlos 
asked  his  brother. 

"  I  can  say  no  more  than  that  I  have  conscien- 


MARIANELA.  133 

tiously  examined  the  case,  and  can  find  no  suffi- 
cient reason  for  saying  it  is  hopeless,  as  the  other 
distinguished  operators  have  said  whom  our  good 
friend  has  consulted.  I  cannot  pledge  myself  to 
succeed,  nor  can  I  think  it  impossible.  The  exami- 
nation I  made  yesterday  revealed  no  defect  or  in- 
jury in  the  retina,  and  no  disease  in  the  optic  nerve. 
If  the  retina  is  perfect,  all  that  is  needed  is  the  re- 
moval of  some  impediment  in  front  of  it.  The 
crystalline  lens  often  becomes  opaque — sometimes 
hard  and  stony — and  this  is  what  does  the  mis- 
chief. If  all  the  other  parts  of  the  organ  are 
healthy  and  work — but,  in  the  commonwealth  of 
the  eye,  many  individual  portions  are  only  too 
ready  to  become  atrophied  by  idleness." 

"  So  that,  in  short,  it  amounts  simply  to  con- 
genital cataract,"  said  Penaguilas  eagerly. 

"  Oh  no,  Senor ;  if  it  were  no  more  than  that, 
it  would  be  a  happy  thing  for  us !  All  that  would 
be  needed  would  be  to  get  rid  of  the  part  that 
does  its  duty  so  badly.  It  ought  to  let  the  light 
in  and  instead  of  that,  it  is  congested,  degenerate, 
stony,  and  as  opaque  as  a  wall.  No — there  is 
something  more  than  that,  Don  Francisco.  The 
iris  is  defective,  the  pupil  must  be  taken  in  hand. 
—  Still,  I  can  laugh  all  these  details  to  scorn  if, 
when  I  enter  into  possession,  as  it  were,  of  this 


134  MARTANELA. 

dormant  organ,  I  only  find  the  choroid  and  the 
retina  uninjured.  If,  on  the  other  hand,,  when  I 
have  removed  the  opaque  lens  and  let  the  light  in, 
I  find  complete  amaurosis — if  it  were  only  partial, 
that  would  be  something — but  if  it  is  total.  .  . . 
When  the  nerve  of  sight  is  dead  we  can  do  noth- 
ing. The  deep  mysteries  of  life  are  closed  against 
us.  There  is  nothing  for  it  but  patience.  This 
case  is  to  me  a  most  interesting  one ;  there  are 
symptoms  which  lead  me  to  believe  that  the  in- 
ternal function  is  unimpaired.  The  retina,  as 
Sovereign  lord,  seems  quite  disposed  to  receive  the 
light  I  shall  introduce  to  it,  and  that  high  func- 
tionary, the  vitreous  humor,  will  probably  find  it 
no  novelty.  If  'from  long  want  of  exercise  it 
has  sunk  into  a  state  of  incipient  glaucoma — a 
kind  of  melancholy — we  will  treat  it  for  that. 
All  wilf  then  be  well  in  that  darkened  chamber. 
But  there  is  another  thing  to  be  considered. 
A  fissured  iris,  and  an  ordinary  cataract  usually 
admit  some  gleam  of  light,  and  our  patient  sees 
not  a  glimmer.  This  made  me  hesitate.  In 
fact,  the  sclerotic  too  is  very  much  thickened ; 
the  impediments  to  the  admission  of  light  are 
many  and  serious ....  However,  we  shall  see, 
Don  Francisco.  Have  you  courage  for  any- 
thing ?" 


MARIANELA.  135 

"  Courage  !  What  should  I  have  courage  for  ?" 

asked  Don  Francisco. 

• 

"  Sir,  you  will  want  all  your  courage  if.  ..." 

"  Well,  if.  ...  ?" 

"  If,  after  undergoing  a  painful  operation,  your 
son  is  still  as  blind  as  before.  I  said  to  you,  plainly: 
The  case  is  not  desperate ;  shall  I  operate  ?" 

"  And  I  answered,  and  I  answer  once  more ; 
Yes — operate ;  and  God's  will  be  done.  On- 
wards !" 

"Aye,  onwards!   You  have  taken  my  motto." 

Don  Francisco  rose  and  wrung  the  surgeon's 
hands,  that  were  so  like  a  lion's  paws. 

"  In  this  climate  the  operation  may  be  favor- 
ably performed  early  in  October,"  Golfin  went 
on.  "  To-morrow  we  will  decide  on  the  regimen 
to  which  we  must  subject  our  patient.  Meanwhile 
we  will  be  going,  for  it  is  fresh  up  on  this  hill." 

Penaguilas  pressed  shelter  and  supper  on  his 
friends,  but  they  would  not  accept.  They  set  out 
homewards  with  Nela,  whom  Teodoro  insisted  on 
taking  with  him,  and  Don  Francisco  kept  them 
company  as  far  as  the  works. 

Soothed  by  the  silence  and  beauty  of  the  night, 
they  fell  into  conversation  on  lighter  themes — on 
the  yield  and  profits  of  the  mines,  and  other  local 
matters.  The  Golfins  having  reached  home,  Don 


136  MARIANELA. 

Francisco  turned  back  alone  and  heavy-hearted, 
walking  slowly,  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the.  ground. 
He  was  thinking  of  the  terrible  days  of  doubt  and 
hope,  of  expectation  and  anxiety  which  were  com- 
ing on  him.  Presently  he  was  met  by  Choto,  and 
the  pair  lazily  climbed  the  wooden  stair.  The 
moon  gave  them  light,  and  the  old  man's  shadow 
went  up  in  front  of  him,  broken  by  the  steps  into 
a  zigzag  monster  that  leaped  from  plank  to  plank. 
The  dog  trotted  by  its  side  and  Don  Francisco,  in 
the  absence  of  any  other  mortal  to  whom  he  could 
confide  the  thoughts  that  wearied  his  brain,  pres- 
ently said : 

"  Oh  Choto  !  will  it  succeed  ?" 


CHAPTER  XII. 

DOCTOR      CELIPIN. 

THAT  worthy,  Senor  Centeno,  having  refreshed 
his  mind  with  the  dull  columns  of  his  newspaper, 
and  '  Senana,'  his  wife,  after  enjoying  the  more  in- 
toxicating delights  of  counting  and  feeling  the 
coin  in  the  stocking,  had  taken  themselves  to  bed. 
Children  first  and  parents  after,  they  had  all 
marched  off  to  their  respective  couches.  First 
there  was  the  mumbled  Litany,  sounding  like  some 


MARIANELA.  137 

muttered  gibberish;  then  yawns,  while  the  slug- 
gard fingers  made  the  sign  of  the  cross — and  then 
the  stony-hearted  family  slept. 

When  the  house  was  as  still  as  the  grave  itself, 
a  soft  rustling  began  to  be  audible  in  the  kitchen, 
like  the  stirring  of  bats  coming  out  of  their  hiding 
nooks  to  see  life.  The  hampers  opened  and  Celi- 
pin  heard  these  words : 

"  Celipin — look  here;  I  have  got  something 
nice  for  you  to-night." 

Celipin  could  see  nothing,  but  he  put  out  his 
hand  and  took  from  Nela's  two  duros.  Having  as- 
sured himself  of  their  genuineness  by  touch — since 
he  could  hardly  have  done  so  by  sight — he  re- 
mained speechless  with  astonishment. 

"Don  Teodoro  gave  them  to  me,"  added  the 
girl,  "  to  buy  myself  a  pair  of  shoes.  But  I  do  not 
.want  shoes;  so  I  give  them  to  you,  and  so  you 
will  get  on  faster." 

"  Hurrah  !  You  are  as  good  as  the  Holy  Virgin, 
Nela — I  want  very  little  more  now,  and  when  I 
have  got  another  half-dozen  or  so  of  reales — you 
shall  see  what  Celipin  is  made  of." 

"  Aye,  and  listen  to  me,  child ;  the  man  who 
gave  me  that  money  ran  about  the  streets  barefoot 
begging  when  he  was  a  boy,  and  now.  ..." 

"  You  do  not  mean  it !    Don  Teodoro  ?     And 


138  MARIANELA. 

now  he  has  such  lots  of  money.  They  say  six 
mules  could  not  carry  it  all." 

"  Yes,  and  he  slept  in  the  streets,  and  was  an 
errand  boy,  and  had  no  breeches — in  short,  was 
poorer  than  a  rat.  And  his  brother,  Don  Carlos, 
lived  in  an  old-clothes  shop." 

"  Lord  save  us !  What  wonderful  things  we 
five  to  hear  of!  Well,  I  will  go  and  find  an  old- 
clothes  shop  where  I  can  live." 

"  Well,  and  after  that  he  became  a  barber  to 
earn  a  living  and  be  able  to  study." 

"  Ah.  .  .  .  !  Look  here  then ;  I  have  a  great 
mind  to  go  straight  into  a  barber's  shop ;  I  shall 
soon  have  to  shave  myself,  and  I  am  brisk  and 
quick  enough,  thank  God  !  —  Only  wait  till  I  get 
to  Madrid — shaving  on  one  hand  and  studying  on 
the  other,  at  the  end  of  two  months  I  will  know 
everything.  Look  here,  it  has  just  struck  me  that 
I  am  made  to  be  a  doctor. — Yes,  a  doctor,  what 
with  feeling  pulses  and  looking  at  tongues,  that  is 
the  way  to  fill  your  pockets." 

"  Don  Teodoro,"  Nela  went  on,  "  had  much 
less  than  you,  for  you  will  soon  have  five  duros, 
and  with  five  duros,  you  can  get  almost  everything. 
Don  Teodoro  and  Don  Carlos  were  like  the  birds 
that  fly  about  without  house  or  home,  all  alone  in 
the  world.  Well,  by  managing  well,  they  got 


MARIANELA.  139 

learned.  Don  Teodoro  studied  dead  bodies,  and 
Don  Carlos  studied  stones,  and  so  they  learnt  to 
be  gentlemen,  and  men  of  importance.  And  that 
is  why  Don  Teodoro  is  such  a  friend  to  the  poor. 
Celipin,  you  should  have  seen  him  this  evening 
when  he  jumped  me  upon  his  shoulder — and  then 
he  gave  me  his  cup  of  milk  and  looked  at  me  as 
if  I  were  a  lady." 

"All  strong,  active  men,  are  the  same,"  said 
Celipin  sharply.  "  You  will  see  how  brave  and 
fine  I  shall  look  when  I  wear  a  long  cloak  and  a 
high  hat ;  and  I  will  wear  those  stockings  on  my 
hands — gloves  they  call  them,  and  never  take 
them  off  excepting  to  feel  a  pulse — I  will  have  a 
stick  with  a  gilt  knob  and  will  wear  such  clothes ! 
nothing  shall  ever  touch  my  skin  but  fine  linen. 
Lord  love  you  child  !  but  you  will  laugh  to  see 
me!" 

"  Do  not  be  fancying  that  you  can  rise  to  such 
things  at  once — you  who  are  as  bare  as  an  egg," 
said  the  girl.  "  You  must  go  step  by  step,  learn- 
ing one  thing  to-day  and  another  to-morrow.  I 
advise  you,  before  you  learn  to  cure  sick  folks, 
to  learn  to  write ;  and  so  you  ought,  if  it  is 
only  to  leave  a  letter  for  your  mother,  asking  her  to 
forgive  you,  and  telling  her  that  you  are  gone  away 
from  home  to  improve  yourself,  to  make  your 


140  MARIANELA. 

way  like  Don  Teodoro,  and  become  a  clever 
doctor." 

"  Do  not  talk  nonsense  child.  Who  does  not 
know  that  writing  comes  first  ?  Only  let  me  get 
a  pen  in  my  hand,  and  you  will  see  me  flourish 
away  at  the  letters,  and  what  beautiful  fine  strokes 
I  will  make  up  and  down,  like  Don  Francisco 
Penaguilas'  name  at  the  end  of  a  letter. — Write  ? 
do  not  talk  to  me  —  in  four  days  you  will  see  what 
letters  I  will  write. — Aye,  you  shall  hear  them  read 
and  see  what  grand  ideas  I  can  hatch  out,  and  set 
them  down  too,  in  such  fine  words  as  will  make 
you  all  look  foolish.  Bless  you  child !  but  you 
have  no  notion  how  clever  I  can  be.  I  feel  it  in- 
side my  head  here,  buzzing  and  humming,  bur- 
nmbum,  burumbum,  like  the  water  in  the  boiler  of 
a  steam-engine.  It  will  not  let  me  sleep,  and  I 
feel  as  if  all  the  sciences  in  the  world  came  rush- 
ing in  and  flapped  blindly  about  like  bats,  wanting 
me  to  study  them. — All  the  sciences — I  must 
learn  them  all;  I  must  not  leave  out  one. — Well, 
you  will  see." 

"  But  there  must  be  a  great  many.  Pablo 
Penaguilas  knows  them  all,  and  he  told  me 
that  there  are  a  great,  great  many,  and  that  a 
man's  whole  lifetime  is  not  enough  to  learn  even 
one." 


MARIANELA.  14! 

"Never  do  you  believe  him. — Well,  you  will 
see  what  I  can  do." 

"  And  the  best  of  all  is  what  Don  Carlos 
learns;  why,  only  think,  he  picks  up  a  stone  and 
makes  brass  of  it ;  indeed,  they  do  say  he  makes 
silver,  and  even  gold.  Learn  that  science,  Celi- 
pillo." 

"  Do  not  you  be  mistaken,  Nela ;  there  is 
nothing  like  knowing  how  to  take  a  wrist  and  look 
at  a  tongue,  and  tell  in  a  minute  in  what  corner  of 
a  body  the  mischief  lies.  They  say  that  Don 
Teodoro  can  take  a  man's  eye  out  and  put  him  in 
a  new  one,  that  he  can  see  with  as  well  as  if  he 
had  been  born  with  it.  Just  think  what  it  is  to 
see  a  man  dying,  and  to  make  him  hale  and  sound 
again  only  by  making  him  swallow  half-a-dozen 
flies,  let  us  say,  stewed  down  on  a  Monday  with 
hazel  twigs  gathered  by  a  maid  named  Juana — 
I  say  that  is  something  worth  doing. — Yes,  you 
shall  see,  you  shall  see  what  I  will  do.  Doctor 
Celipin  de  Socartes.  I  tell  you  my  fame  will  reach 
as  far  as  Havana." 

"  Good,  good  !"  cried  Nela,  delighted,  "  But 
remember,  you  must  be  a  good  boy,  because  the 
reason  your  parents  have  taught  you  nothing,  is 
only  because  they  were  not  clever  enough,  and  so, 
as  you  are  clever,  you  must  pray  for  them  to  the 


142  MARIANELA. 

Holy  Virgin,  and  not  forget  to  send  them  some  of 
all  the  money  you  are  going  to  get." 

"  I  will  be  sure  to  send  them  some.  You  see, 
it  is  not  because  I  owe  them  any  grudge  that  I 
am  going  to  run  away ;  and  before  long,  very 
soon,  you  will  see  a  porter  come  up  from  the 
station  so  loaded  with  big  parcels  that  he  can 
hardly  stand,  and  what  will  they  be  ?  Why,  pet- 
ticoats for  mother  and  the  girls,  and  a  tall  hat  for 
father — and  you  —  I  will  send  you  a  pair  of  ear- 
rings." 

"You  are  in  a  hurry  with  your  presents," 
said  Nela,  smothering  a  laugh.  "  Ear-rings  for 
me!" 

"  Stop ;  I  have  just  got  another  idea.  Shall  I 
tell  you  ?  It  is  that  you  should  come  with  me  ; 
two  of  us  together  we  should  help  each  other  to 
earn  money  and  to  learn.  For  you  are  clever  too, 
I  am  too  sharp  not  to  see  that ;  and  you  can  learn 
to  be  a  lady  as  I  can  to  be  a  gentleman.  Oh 
Lord  !  how  I  should  laugh  to  see  you  playing  the 
piano  like  Dona  Sofia." 

"  What  a  simpleton  you  are  !  Why  I  am  no 
good  for  anything.  If  I  went  with  you,  I  should 
only  be  a  clog  and  burden  to  you." 

"  But  they  say  now  that  Don  Pablo  is  going  to 
be  made  to  see,  and  when  he  can  see,  you  will 


MARIANELA.  143 

have  nothing  to  do  in  Socartes.  What  do  you 
think  of  my  plan  ?  Why  do  not  you  answer  ?" 

There  was  a  long  pause,  during  which  Nela 
made  no  answer.  Celipin  asked  her  again  but  got 
no  answer. 

"  Go  to  sleep,  Celipin,"  she  said  from  the  bot- 
tom of  the  baskets.  "  I  am  dreadfully  sleepy." 

"  If  my  brain  will  let  me  sleep,  God  save  us  !" 

And  a  minute  later  he  was  dreaming  of  him- 
self in  the  semblance  of  Don  Teodoro  Golfin,  fix- 
ing new  eyes  in  old  sockets,  splitting  open  frag- 
ments of  rock,  and  snatching  sick  men  from  the 
jaws  of  death  by  means  of  doses  of  flies,  stewed 
on  a  Monday,  with  hazel  twigs  picked  by  a 
maiden.  He  saw  himself  dressed  with  gorgeous 
garments,  his  hands  encased  in  perfumed  gloves, 
and  riding  in  a  coach  drawn  by  swans  instead  of 
horses,  invited  by  Kings  and  courted  by  Queens, 
attending  ladies  of  distinction,  lauded  by  nobles, 
and  carried  in  triumph  by  all  the  peoples  of  the 
earth. 


144  MARIANELA. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

BETWEEN  TWO  BASKETS. 

NELA  had  shut  herself  into  her  baskets  to  be 
alone ;  we  will  follow  her,  however,  and  look  in 
upon  her  thoughts.  But  first  we  must  give  a  little 
more  of  her  history. 

Having  entirely  lacked  all  instruction  in  her 
infancy,  having  equally  lacked  all  those  soft  en- 
dearments, which  unfailingly  open  the  mind  to 
recognize  certain  truths,  Marianela's  powerful 
imagination  had  conceived  a  strange  set  of 
ideas,  a  wild  and  fanciful  theogony,  and  a  highly 
whimsical  scheme  of  cause  and  effect.  Teodoro 
Golfin's  comparison  of  Nela's  mind  with  the  early 
stage  of  a  primitive  race  was  a  particularly  happy 
one.  In  her,  as  in  them,  the  fascination  of  the 
marvellous  was  the  predominant  sense ;  she  be- 
lieved in  supernatural  agencies,  apart  from  the  one 
and  supreme  God,  and  saw  in  all  natural  objects 
an  abstract  personality,  by  no  means  cut  off  from 
all  communication  with  men.  In  spite  of  all  this, 
however,  Nela  had  some  knowledge  of  the  Gospel. 
It  had  never  been  taught  her,  to  be  sure,  but  she 


MARIANELA.  145 

had  heard  such  things  talked  of.  She  saw  that 
people  went  to  a  function  they  called  the  Mass, 
and  she  understood  the  idea  of  a  sublime  sacrifice; 
but  beyond  this  her  notions  could  not  go.  The 
contagion  of  a  common  feeling  had  accustomed 
her  mind  to  reverence  the  image  of  the  Crucified 
God ;  she  knew  it  should  be  kissed,  and  she  even 
could  repeat  some  prayers  that  she  had  learnt 
mechanically  ;  she  knew  whatever  she  wanted  she 
could  ask  of  God — but  this  was  all.  The  absolute 
neglect  in  which  her  whole  nature  had  been  left 
until  the  time  of  her  acquaintance  with  Pablo  Pena- 
guilas  was  the  cause  of  this  confusion,  and  her 
friendship  with  this  strange  being,  who,  shut  up  in 
darkness,  nevertheless  with  his  mind's  eye  boldly 
investigated  all  the  problems  of  life,  had  come  to  her 
too  late.  Nela's  system  of  philosophy,  of  her  own 
fabrication,  had  already  petrified — a  strange  com- 
pound of  paganism  and  sentimentality.  At  the 
same  time  it  must  be  said  that  Marianela,  though 
her  spirit  ranged  so  far  outside  the  common  at- 
mosphere, was  well  endowed  with  good  sense,  and 
could  form  a  sound  judgment  on  the  things  of 
daily  life,  as  has  been  seen  in  the  advice  she  gave 
to  Celipin.  This,  no  doubt,  was  due  to  the  native 
soundness  of  her  mind. 

The  strongest  instinct  of  her  nature  was  her 


146  MARIANELA. 

love,  nay  her  secret  passion,  for  physical  beauty 
wherever  she  saw  it.  Nothing  could  be  more 
natural  than  this  impulse  in  a  human  soul  growing 
up  in  total  solitude,  so  far  as  society  and  teaching 
were  concerned,  and  in  constant  intercourse,  in 
close  intimacy  we  may  say,  with  Nature  and  all 
its  sublime  or  gracious  beauty  —  light,  color, 
eloquent  inarticulate  voices,  and  infinite  variety  of 
form.  And  Marianela's  admiration  had  assumed 
the  guise  of  worship ;  in  obedience  to  a  law,  which 
also  governs  the  primitive  race,  she  had  personified 
all  the  beauty  she  saw  around  her  and  worshipped 
it  in  a  single  incarnation,  ideal  but  human.  This 
divinity  of  her  imagination  she  called  the  Virgin 
Mary,  a  conception  she  had  derived  from  the  do- 
main of  religious  thought,  of  which  she  knew  so 
little.  And  the  Virgin  Mary  would  not  have  be- 
come her  cherished  ideal,  if  she  had  not  joined  to 
her  moral  perfections  all  the  physical  gifts  of 
beauty  and  grace ;  if  her  aspect  had  not  been 
noble  and  attractive,  at  once  human  and  divine  ; 
if  it  had  not  seemed  to  Nela  the  epitome  in  which 
were  concentrated  all  the  glory  of  light,  the  sober 
peace  of  darkness,  the  music  of  running  waters,  the 
grace  and  sweetness  of  flowers,  the  freshness  of  the 
dew,  the  low  complaining  of  the  wind,  the  spotless 
purity  of  the  mountain  snow,  the  loving  glances  of 


MARIANELA;  147 

the  stars,  and  the  solemn  majesty  of  the  clouds,  as 
they  ride  across  the  vault  of  heaven. 

The  person  of  God  himself  she  conceived  of  as 
terrible  and  austere,  inspiring  respect  rather  than 
love.  All  that  was  gracious  was  bestowed  by  the 
Virgin,  and  she  was  the  giver  of  all  that  human 
creatures  could  ask  for.  God  frowned,  while  She 
smiled  ;  God  chastised,  but  She  forgave  ;  this  last 
C-«otion  was  by  no  means  a  strange  one.  It  is  ac- 
cepted with  almost  absolute  faith  among  the  labor- 
ing classes  of  the  rural  parts  of  Spain.  Nor  is  it 
at  all  uncommon,  when  we  find  a  strong  imagina- 
tion joined  to  extreme  ignorance,  to  meet  with  the 
fusion  which  existed  in  Nela's  mind  of  all  the 
beauties  of  Nature  with  the  beautiful  personifica- 
tion which  combines  all  the  aesthetic  charms  of 
the  Christian  ideal.  If  the  darkness  in  which 
Nela  dwelt  had  only  been  more  complete,  if  she 
had  but  been  rather  more  destitute  of  religious 
notions,  she  would  have  been  an  utter  pagan  and 
have  worshipped  the  moon,  the  woods,  the  rivers, 
fire  and  the  sun.  This  was  Nela  as  her  life  in 
Socartes  had  made  her,  and  such  she  remained  till 
she  was  fifteen.  After  that,  her  comradeship  with 
Pablo  and  her  frequent  talk  with  the  lad,  whose 
ideas  were  so  broad  and  so  sound,  had  somewhat 
modified  her  tone  of  thought.  But  she  still  al- 


148  MARTANELA. 

lowed  supreme  sovereignty  to  physical  beauty ;  she 
still  superstitiously  adored  the  Virgin  as  the  em- 
bodiment of  all  the  loveliness  of  Nature,  and,  in  a 
way,  of  all  moral  law ;  crowning  her  system  with 
the  most  extraordinary  ideas  as  to  death  and  the 
life  to  come. 


Curling  herself  up  in  her  basket,  Marianela's 
reflections  took  this  form : 

"  Holy  Mother  of  God  !  Why — why  did  you 
not  make  me  beautiful  ?  Why  did  you  not  look 
down  on  me  as  soon  as  I  was  born  ?  For  the  more 
I  look  at  myself,  the  uglier  I  seem  to  grow.  Oh  ! 
why  am  I  in  this  world  at  all  ?  Of  what  good  can  I 
be  ?  Who  can  care  for  me  ?  One  single  soul,  Lady 
Mother,  only  one,  and  he  only  because  he  cannot 
see  me.  What  is  to  become  of  me  when  he  sees 
me  and  casts  me  off?  for  it  is  impossible  that  he 
should  ever  love  me  when  he  sees  my  miserable 
little  body,  my  freckled  face,  my  ugly  mouth,  my 
sharp  nose,  my  dirty  brown  skin — all  my  hide- 
ous little  self — of  no  good  to  any  one  but  to  kick 
perhaps.  What  is  that  ?  Only  Nela — nothing  at 
all.  She  is  of  no  use  to  any  one  but  the  blind 
boy.  If  his  eyes  are  opened,  if  he  turns  and  looks 
at  me,  I  shall  drop  down  dead. 


MARIANELA.  149 

"  He  is  the  only  being  to  whom  '  Nela'  is  any- 
thing more  important  than  the  cats  and  the  birds. 
He  loves  me.  Loves  me  as  lovers  love  their  sweet- 
hearts, as  God  intends  human  beings  to  love  each 
other.  —  Oh  Lady  Mother  !  now  that  you  are  go- 
ing to  work  a  miracle  and  let  him  see,  make  me 
beautiful  or  strike  me  dead,  for  I  shall  not  be 
wanted  any  more  in  this  world.  I  am  good  for 
nothing  and  ever  shall  be,  excepting  to  one  per- 
son. Am  I  sorry  then  that  he  should  be  able  to 
see? — No,  no,  not  that,  no.  I  want  him  to  see; 
I  would  give  my  own  eyes  for  him  to  see  with  his ; 
I  would  give  my  life.  I  hope  Don  Teodoro  can 
work  the  miracle  as  they  say.  Blessings  on  all 
wise  men  !  What  I  do  not  want  is  that  my  mas- 
ter should  ever  see  me.  Before  I  will  let  him  see 
me,  oh  Mother !  I  will  bury  myself  alive,  I  will 
throw  myself  into  the  river. — Yes,  the  earth  shall 
cover  my  ugliness.  I  ought  never  to  have  been 
born." 

She  writhed  in  her  narrow  basket,  and  then  she 
went  on : 

"  All  my  heart  and  thought  are  for  him.  That 
poor,  blind  man,  who  has  taken  it  into  his  head  to 
be  fond  of  me — he  is  the  first  being  in  the  world 
to  me  next  to  the  Virgin  Mary.  Oh  !  If  only  I 
were  tall  and  handsome ;  if  I  had  the  figure,  and 


1 50  MARIANELA. 

the  face,  and  the  color — above  all,  the  color — of 
other  girls  !%  If  I  could  only  make  a  lady  of  my- 
self and  dress  myself  up. — And  then  my  greatest 
joy  would  be  to  think  that  his  eyes  liked  to  look 
at  me.  If  I  were  like  other  girls,  even  like  Mariuca 
— how  soon  I  would  find  a  way  of  getting  taught 
and  being  made  a  lady  of.  Oh  Mother  Mary, 
Queen  of  the  world  !  The  only  creature  that  loves 
me,  I  am  going  to  lose :  he  will  leave  me.  Why 
did  you  ever  let  him  love  me,  and  let  me  love  him  ? 
It  ought  not — never — to  have  been." 

The  tears  poured  down  her  cheeks ;  she  folded 
her  arms  and  turned  over,  and  even  when  half 
asleep  she  still  was  speaking  to  herself: 

"  Oh,  how  much  I  love  you,  child  of  my  soul ! 
Love  me  too,  love  me  very  much.  It  is  Nela  who 
is  no  good  to  any  one. — Love  me  very  much. 
Let  me  give  you  a  kiss — here  on  your  head. — 
But  do  not  open  your  eyes,  do  not  look  at  me. 
Shut  them — so." 


MARIANELA.  151 


CHAPTER  XIV. 

HOW  THE  VIRGIN  MARY  APPEARED  TO  NELA. 

THE  thoughts  which  fade  and  fly  as  sleep 
overcomes  us,  very  commonly  lurk  in  some  hole 
or  corner  ready  to  take  us  by  storm  again  as  soon 
as  we  wake.  Thus  it  was  that  Mariquilla,  who, 
having  fallen  asleep  with  her  head  full  of  strange 
fancies  of  the  Virgin,  of  the  blind  lad,  and  of  her 
own  ugliness  which,  she  longed  so  wildly  to  see 
changed  into  wonderful  loveliness,  woke  with  the 
same  ideas  in  her  brain  when  Senana's  call  roused 
her  in  her  basket.  As  soon  as  her  eyes  were  open, 
Nela  put  up  her  usual  prayer  to  the  Virgin 
Mother — a  sort  of  Litany,  compounded  of  the 
ordinary  Litany  to  the  Virgin  and  of  certain 
clauses  of  her  own  devising,  and  forming  altogether 
an  address  which  would  look  strange  enough  if  it 
were  written  down.  Among  other  things,  Nela's 
prayer  said : 

"  Thou  didst  appear  to  me  in  my  dreams  last 
night,  oh  Lady !  and  promise  to  comfort  me  to- 
day. Now  I  am  awake,  and  still  I  feel  as  if  I  saw 
thy  face  just  before  me,  and  far  lovelier  than  all 
the  grand  and  lovely  things  in  the  world."  And 


152  MARIAN  EL  A. 

as  she  spoke  she  turned  and  gazed  round  her. 
Noticing  in  herself  the  utter  vagueness  with  which 
she  did  so,  she  thought  to  herself:  "  Something 
has  come  over  me." 

"  What  is  the  matter,  Nela  ?"  asked  Senana, 
seeing  the  girl  stand  with  her  eyes  wide  open  and 
fixed  on  a  spot  in  space.  "  Do  you  see  a  vision, 
simpleton  ?" 

But  Nela  did  not  answer,  her  mind  was  ab- 
sorbed in  self  contemplation. 

"  What  ails  me  ?"  she  asked  herself.  "  It  can- 
not he  anything  evil,  or  wicked,  for  I  do  not  feel 
the  black  ugly  figure  of  a  devil  inside  me,  but 
something  heavenly :  a  beautiful  face,  a  smile  and 
a  look  which — if  I  am  in  my  right  mind — are 
those  of  the  Virgin  Mary  herself.  Oh  Lady 
Mother !  Can  it  be  true  that  thou  wilt  give  me 
comfort  to-day  ?  And  how?  —  By  giving  me  what 
I  prayed  for  last  night  ?" 

"  Now  then,  brat !"  screamed  Senana  in  her 
harsh  tones,  like  a  cracked  bell.  "  Go  and  wash 
your  ugly  little  snout" 

Nela  went  at  once.  Her  spirit  had  felt  a  shock 
as  of  a  sudden  gleam  of  great  hope.  She  looked 
at  herself  in  the  quivering  surface  of  the  water, 
and  her  heart  shrank  within  her. 

"  No  difference,"  she  muttered.     "  As  ugly  as 


MARIANELA.  153 

ever ;  the  same  child's  face  with  a  woman's  years 
and  a  woman's  heart !" 

But  after  washing  herself  she  went  through 
the  same  experience  as  before — a  sort  of  agony 
of  anticipation,  and,  in  spite  of  her  narrow  vocabu- 
lary, Nela  could  classify  these  feelings  as  presenti- 
ments. 

"  Pablo  and  I,"  said  she  to  herself,  "  have  often 
talked  of  how  we  feel  when  something  sad  or 
something  pleasant  is  going  to  happen.  Pablo 
told  me  that  just  before  an  earthquake  people  have 
strange  sensations ;  there  is  something  in  the  air, 
and  the  beasts  feel  it  too.  Is  there  going  to  be  an 
earthquake,  I  wonder  ?"  And  she  knelt  down  and 
felt  the  ground  with  her  hand. 

"  I  cannot  tell.  But  something  is  going  to 
happen,  and  I  cannot  doubt  that  it  will  be  some- 
thing good. — The  Virgin  told  me  last  night  that 
to-day  she  would  comfort  me.  What  has  come 
over  me  ?  The  Heavenly  Queen  seems  to  be 
close  to  me.  I  cannot  see  her,  but  I  feel  her — 
before  me  —  behind  me.  ..." 

She  went  close  by  the  machines  for  washing 
the  ore  towards  the  inclined  plane,  looking  about 
her  with  eager  eyes.  There  was  nothing  to  be 
seen  but  the  arms  and  wheels  of  iron,  toiling  with 
fiendish  shrieks  amid  the  hideous  confusion  of 


154  MARIANELA. 

whirling  cylinders,  lashing  the  water  to  powder,  as 
it  seemed,  and  breathing  out  dust  and  smoke. 
Presently,  when  she  had  gone  some  little  distance, 
she  stopped ;  putting  her  hand  to  her  forehead, 
and  fixing  her  eyes  on  the  ground  in  all  the  be- 
wilderment of  doubt :  "  The  question  is,"  said 
she  to  herself,  "  am  I  happy  or  am  I  sad  ?" 

She  looked  up  at  the  sky,  half  wondering  to 
see  it  appear  the  same  as  on  other  days — and  it  was 
a  lovely  day — and  then  she  walked  on  faster,  to 
reach  Aldeacorba  as  soon  as  possible.  Instead  of 
going  through  the  gallery  in  the  mines  and  up  the 
wooden  steps,  she  kept  above  the  hollow  way,  along 
by  the  gutter  that  bordered  the  inclined  tramway, 
intending  to  get  out  into  the  fields,  and  walk 
straight  on  by  the  level  road  to  the  village.  This 
way  was  much  the  prettiest,  and  she  almost  always 
chose  it,  for  that  reason.  It  went  by  lanes  full 
of  sweet  and  gay  flowers,  where  crowds  of  bees 
and  butterflies  fluttered  and  sipped ;  there  were 
thickets  of  bramble  loaded  with  the  black  fruit  be- 
loved of  children ;  clumps  of  cherry-trees  over- 
grown with  honeysuckles,  and  enormous  ilex, 
tall,  spreading,  densely  shady,  and  proud,  it  would 
seem,  of  their  wide,  black  shadows. 

Here  Nela  went  more  slowly,  uneasy  in  her- 
self, puzzled  at  her  own    sensations,  and  at  the 


MARIANELA.  155 

anxious  excitement  that  stirred  in  her.  Her  rapid 
fancy  presently  hit  upon  a  formula  to  express  the 
state  of  her  feelings,  and  remembering  having  heard 
it  said  of  such  and  such  a  one,  "  the  devil  is  in  him," 
she  said  to  herself:  "The  angels  are  in  me,  the 
Virgin  Mary  is  with  me  this  day.  What  I  feel  are 
the  wings  of  her  angels  fluttering  inside  me.  Thou 
art  near  me,  Lady  Mother,  I  see  you  and  yet  I 
do  not  see  you — as  we  see  with  our  eyes  shut." 

She  shut  her  eyes,  and  then  she  opened  them 
again.  She  had  just  passed  a  grove  of  trees  and 
turned  an  angle  of  the  road  to  go  to  a  place  where 
she  knew  of  a  bramble  copse,  the  greenest,  pretti- 
est, a*nd  most  fruitful  in  all  the  neighborhood. 
There  were  luxuriant  ferns  too,  honeysuckle,  wild 
vine,  and  other  climbing  plants,  all  clinging  and 
tangled  together  in  mutual  dependence. 

Nela  heard  a  rustle  in  the  brushwood  close  to 
her,  and  turning  round  she  saw — Merciful  Heaven  1 
There,  in  a  frame  of  greenery,  stood  the  Immacu- 
late Virgin  herself — the  face,  the  eyes,  which  in 
their  gaze  seemed  to  have  all  the  calm  beauty  of 
the  sky.  Nela  stood  silent,  petrified ;  with  a  feel- 
ing at  once  of  devotion  and  terror.  She  could  not 
stir,  nor  cry  out,  nor  hardly  breathe,  nor  take  her 
eyes  off  this  beatific  vision. 

It  stood    among   the   verdure,  the   face   and 


156  MARIANELA. 

figure  to  the  waist  perfectly  displayed.  This  was 
— yes,  certainly — the  very  presence  of  the  Maiden 
of  Nazareth,  whose  moral  loveliness  every  painter 
has  endeavored  to  express  by  means  of  physical 
beauty,  from  St.  Luke  downwards  through  "eigh- 
teen centuries.  Have  not  men  indeed  seen  that 
sacred  form  with  the  eyes  of  sense — with  the 
eyes  of  Albert  Diirer — of  Rafael  —  of  Van  Eyck 
—  of  Bartolome  Murillo  ?  It  was  under  the 
Rafaelesque  aspect  that  she  now  appeared  to 
Nela,  the  most  realistic  of  all,  if  realism  can  mean 
the  nearest  approach  of  perfect  human  beauty  to 
an  artistic  representation  of  divine  goodness.  The 
oval  of  her  face  was  less  narrow  than  the  Seville 
painter's  type,  and  had  more  of  the  tender  round- 
ness of  the  Italian  form.  Her  eyes,  which  were 
finely  shaped,  were  gentleness  itself,  with  a  soft- 
ness and  sweetness  as  far  removed  from  indiffer- 
ence, as  from  the  lightning  glow  of  the  eyes  of 
Andalucia ;  the  brows  that  overarched  them  were 
delicately  curved,  and  as  fine  as  if  they  had  been 
traced  with  a  paint-brush.  Her  forehead  was 
unshadowed  by  any  cloud  of  weariness  or  sadness, 
and  her  lips,  which  were  rather  full,  parted  in  a 
smile  that  revealed  the  pearliest  teeth  that  ever  bit 
into  the  apples  of  Paradise.  And  so,  without  in 
the  least  intending  it,  I  have  compared  her  to  our 


MARIANELA.  157 

Mother  Eve — wide  as  the  distance  is  between  her 
who  yielded  to  the  Serpent  and  her  who  set  her 
heel  on  his  head ;  but  the  beauty  of  a  lovely  girl 
is  enough  to  betray  us  into  such  unlucky  blunders. 
To  put  a  finishing  touch  to  this  imperfect  descrip- 
tion of  the  divine  vision  which  had  so  utterly  dis- 
mayed poor  Marianela,  it  must  be  said  that  her 
complexion  was  of  that  faded  rose  color,  or  warm 
clear  brown  which  gives  an  enchanting  glow  to 
the  faces  of  those  glorious  pictures  which  succes- 
sive generations,  of  believers  and  heretics  alike, 
have  worshipped  in  ecstasy. 

After  the  first  shock  of  surprise  was  over,  the 
first  fhing  that  Nela  observed,  and  which  confused 
her  judgment  greatly,  was  that  the  fair  Virgin 
wore  a  blue  ribbon  round  her  throat,  a  detail  she 
had  never  before  seen  in  any  picture  or  dream  of 
the  Virgin  Mary ;  then  she  perceived  that  her 
shoulders  and  bosom  were  covered  by  a  dress  in 
every  respect  similar  to  that  worn  by  other  ladies  ; 
but  the  thing  which  puzzled  and  disturbed  her  most 
was  that  the  fair  creature  was  picking  blackberries 
—  and  eating  them. 

She  was  beginning  to  draw  accurate  inferences 
from  this  remarkable  behavior,  when  she  heard  a 
loud  man's  voice  calling : 

"  Florentina,  Florentina !" 


158  MARIANELA. 

"  I  am  here,  Papa  —  here,  eating  blackber- 
ries." 

"  Naughty  child  —  how  can  you  like  to  eat 
blackberries  ?  What  next  whim  will  you  take  ? 
Have  I  not  told  you  that  they  are  only  fit  for  the  poor 
children  that  run  about  the  country,  and  not  for  a 
young  lady  who  has  been  properly  brought  up.  — 
Do  you  hear?  And  lived  in  good  society." 

Nela  saw  the  speaker  come  towards  them.  He 
was  a  man  of  advanced  middle  age  and  medium 
height,  rotund,  and  with  a  ruddy  countenance 
that  seemed  to  radiate  satisfaction  as  the  sun 
radiates  light.  His  legs  were  thin,  his  nose  was 
large,  and  his  person  decorated  with  a  variety  of 
splendid  objects,  among  which  a  thick  watch-chain 
was  conspicuous,  while  he  wore  a  broad-brimmed 
hat  of  fine  black  felt. 

"  Come,  come,  child,"  said  Don  Manuel  Pena- 
guilas,  for  he  it  was,  "  respectable  people  do  not 
eat  blackberries  nor  skip  and  jump  about  like  that. 
There,  you  have  torn  your  dress — I  do  not  care 
about  the  dress,  for  I  can  buy  you  another  as  I 
bought  you  that — I  only  speak  because  the  peo- 
ple here  who  see  you  might  think  you  had  no 
dress  but  the  one  you  have  on." 

Nela,  who  by  this  time  understood  the  case, 
looked  at  the  young  lady's  dress.  It  was  good 


MARIANELA.  159 

and  handsome,  but  her  face  betrayed  unmistaka- 
bly the  transition — and  a  rapid  one — from  the 
position  of  a  rich  peasant's  daughter  to  that  of  a 
fine  lady.  Every  detail  of  her  attire,  from  her  shoes 
to  her  comb,  stamped  her  as  the  daughter  of  the 
people  in  holiday  clothes.  But  the  girl's  natural 
grace  and  beauty  were  so  transcendent,  that  no 
deficiency,  as  measured  by  any  conventional  stand- 
ard of  elegance,  could  dim  them.  It  was  not  to 
be  denied,  however,  that  her  whole  individuality 
cried  out  for  a  short  peasant's  skirt,  hair  dressed  in 
plaits  with  a  bunch  of  poppies  to  adorn  it  with 
affected  simplicity,  a  sleeveless  bodice,  a  coral  neck- 
lace—  in  short,  the  costume  which  good  taste  and 
the  nature  of  things  would  have  suggested,  with- 
out any  admixture  of  the  devices  of  the  fine 
lady. 

As  the  young  girl  came  out  from  among  the 
brambles,  Don*  Manuel  perceived  Nela,  at  the 
moment  when  she  had  just  recovered  from 
her  delusion,  and  he  called  out  as  he  turned 
to  her : 

"  Hallo  !  and  who  are  you  ?  Why,  look  Flor- 
entina,  it  is  Nela,  the  little  body  that  waits  upon 
your  cousin.  You  remember — I  spoke  of  her  to 
you  ?  And  how  are  you  now-a-days  ?" 

"Very  well,  Senor  Don  Manuel.    And  you. — 


160  MARIANELA. 

How  are  you,  Senor  ?"  asked  Mariquilla  without 
taking  her  eyes  off  Florentina. 

"  Perfectly  well — as  you  see.  This  is  my 
daughter.  —  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  her  ?" 

Florentina  had  just  set  out  on  a  butterfly  chase. 

"  My  dear  child,  where  are  you  going  ?  What 
do  you  want  now?"  said  the  father,  visibly 
annoyed.  "  Now  do  you  think  it  looks  well 
that  you  should  be  running  after  an  insect  like 
some  poor  child  ?  You  must  not  be  so  wild,  my 
child.  Young  ladies  brought  up  in  good  society 
do  not  do  such  things — never  do  such  things.  .  ." 

It  was  a  trick  with  Don  Manuel  to  repeat  the 
last  clause  of  his  sentences  to  give  them  em- 
phasis. 

"  Ah  !  do  not  be  cross,  Papa,"  said  the  girl, 
returning  from  her  fruitless  chase  to  shelter  her- 
self under  the  protecting  brim  of  the  paternal  hat. 
"  You  know  how  much  I  love  the  country  and  that 
I  am  half  crazy  when  I  see  trees  and  flowers  and 
meadows.  And  in  that  dismal  town  of  Campo  I 
never  see  anything  of  the  kind.  ..." 

"  Oh  !  but  you  must  not  say  anything  against 
Santa  Irene  de  Campo ;  it  is  a  famous  town  where 
you  find  every  comfort  and  convenience,  and  a 
great  deal  of  very  distinguished  society.  It  stands 
in  the  foremost  ranks  of  civilization  —  yes,  of 


MARIANELA.  l6l 

civilization.  You  can  admire  the  beauties  of 
Nature  while  you  walk  properly  by  my  side.  I 
admire  them  too,  but  without  cutting  capers  or 
turning  somersaults.  You  can  tell  when  a  young- 
person  has  moved  in  good  society  only  by  her 
way  of  walking  and  looking  at  the  scene  around 
her.  This  way  of  calling  out  at  every  minute : 
Ah  !  Oh  !  Look  there,  Papa !  —  How  pretty  !  — 
and  pointing  to  a  fern,  perhaps,  or  an  oak-tree,  or 
a  rock  —  a  thorn-bush  even,  a  brook  —  is  not  at 
all  in  good  taste  —  people  will  think  you  have 
lived  in  a  desert.  So  come  and  walk  by  me.  — 
Nela  will  show  us  the  way  home,  for,  to  tell  you 
the  truth,  I  do  not  know  where  we  are." 

"  If  we  turn  to  the  left,  past  that  old  house," 
said  Nela  readily,  "  we  shall  be  there  directly.  — 
But  here  comes  Don  Francisco." 

And,  in  fact,  Don  Francisco  came  on  towards 
them,  calling  out :  "  The  chocolate  is  getting 
cold." 

"  What  would  you  have  my  good  fellow.  — 
This  child  was  so  anxious  to  scamper  across  the 
country  that  she  would  not  wait,  so  we  went 
springing  from  bush  to  bush  like  goats — just  like 
goats  from  bush  to  bush." 

"  Well  come  in  now,  come  home.  Nela  do  you 
come  too,  and  have  some  chocolate,"  said  Pena- 


1 62  MARIANELA. 

guilas,  laying  a  hand  on  the  child's  head.  "  Well, 
and  what  do  you  think  of  my  niece  ?  Is  not  she 
pretty?  —  Florentina,  when  you  have  had  your 
chocolate,  Nela  will  take  you  and  Pablo  for  a 
walk,  and  you  will  see  all  the  beauties  of  the 
neighborhood  —  the  mines,  the  wood,  the  river.  .. ." 

Florentina  sent  a  kind  glance  to  the  hapless 
little  creature  who,  as  she  ran  by  her  side,  seemed 
to  have  been  formed  by  Nature  expressly  as  a  foil 
and  contrast  to  one  of  the  loveliest  and  most  per- 
fect of  her  creations. 

When  they  reached  the  house  the  table  was 
ready  laid  with  the  chocolate  pots  full  of  the  thick 
and  nutritious  beverage,  and  a  small  hillock  of 
slices  of  bread.  There  too  were  the  mantequilla 
(a  sort  of  cake),  duly  decked  with  fern  leaves,  and 
no  lack  of  other  household  dainties.  The  bright 
glasses  of  crystal  water  reflected  and  magnified  all 
these  gastronomical  objects. 

"  Here  we  have  something  to  support  life," 
said  Don  Francisco,  seating  himself. 

"  And  you  will  have  some  chocolate  too,  Nela," 
said  Pablo.  He  had  hardly  spoken  when  Floren- 
tina had  offered  her  the  chocolate  pot,  and  every- 
thing that  was  on  the  table  was  pressed  on  her 
acceptance.  She  refused  at  first,  but  the  Senorita 
insisted  with  so  much  kindness  and  gentle  grace, 


MARIANELA.  163 

that  she  had  at  last  no  choice.  Don  Manuel  cast 
side  glances  at  his  daughter,  not  feeling  perfectly 
satisfied  with  her  advance  in  the  arts  and  manners 
of  the  best  society,  since  one  of  the  most  impor- 
tant points,  in  his  estimation,  consisted  in  a  deli- 
cate appreciation  of  the  shades  of  civility  due  to 
different  people  according  to  their  rank  and  posi- 
tion, "  showing  to  each  neither  more  nor  less  than 
was  appropriate  by  the  rules  of  social  distinction  ; 
since,  by  this  means,  each  would  keep  his  place, 
while  true  dignity  would  hold  its  own  and  observe 
that  happy  medium  of  courtesy,  which  was  not 
too  haughty  or  reserved  to  the  rich,  nor  too 
humble  and  condescending  to  the  poor — not  too 
humble  to  the  poor." 

When  they  had  done  breakfast,  Don  Francisco 
said : 

"  Now,  you  children,  go  out  for  a  walk. 
Pablo,  this  is  the  last  day  that  Don  Teodoro  will 
allow  you  to  walk  out.  You  three  go  and  have  a 
run,  while  my  brother  and  I  go  over  the  farm. — 
Fly  away  birds  !" 

There  was  no  need  to  speak  twice ;  the  beauty 
of  the  day  was  invitation  enough,  and  the  three 
young  people  set  out  for  the  fields. 


164  MARIANELA. 


CHAPTER  XV. 

THE     THREE     CHILDREN. 

THE  town-bred  damsel  thoroughly  enjoyed 
the  open  and  smiling  meadows  without  the  tram- 
mels of  her  father's  social  dogmas,  and  as  soon  as 
they  were  at  some  little  distance  from  the  house 
she  took  to  running  and  leaping,  swinging  now 
and  then  from  the  branches  of  the  trees  as  she 
passed  them.  She  pinched  the  blackberries  with 
the  tips  of  her  fingers,  and  when  she  thought 
them  ripe  she  would  pick  three,  one  for  each 
mouth. 

"This  is  for  you,  cousin,"  she  said,  putting  it 
to  his  lips,  "and  this  is  for  you,  Nela,  and  this 
little  one  is  for  me." 

Then  as  the  birds  flew  across  she  could  not  resist 
the  temptation  to  wave  her  arms  as  if  she  too  could 
fly.  "  Where  are  the  little  rascals  off  to  I  wonder  ?" 
she  said.  She  must  need  gather  a  branch  from  every 
oak-tree  and  split  open  the  acorns  to  see  what  was 
in  them,  then  she  bit  into  one,  and  finding  it 
bitter,  tossed  it  away.  No  botanist,  mad  on 
Latin  names  and  classification,  could  have  been  so 
eager  to  collect  all  the  flowers  that  grew  under 


MARIANELA.  165 

her  feet,  as  if  to  bid  her  welcome  to  their  native 
soil,  and  she  gathered  enough  in  half  an  hour  to  . 
adorn  every  button-hole  in  her  cousin's  cloak,  to 
make  a  garland  for  Nela's  hair,  and  then  one  for 
her  own. 

"  My  cousin  would  like  to  see  the  mines," 
said  Pablo.  "  Do  not  you  think  we  might  go 
down  ?" 

"Yes,  let  us  go  down — this  way,  Senorita." 

"  Oh  !  but  I  do  not  like  to  go  through  tunnels, 
they  frighten  me  dreadfully.  I  really  cannot  go 
through  a  tunnel.  ..."  said  Florentina,  following 
them.  "  Cousin,  do  you  and  Nela  walk  about 
here  often  ?  Oh  !  but  this  is  beautiful — I  could 
live  here  all  my  life.  Blessings  on  the  man  who 
is  going  to  give  you  the  power  of  enjoying  this 
lovely  world  !" 

"  God  grant  it !  And  it  will  all  look  much 
more  lovely  to  me  who  have  never  seen  it,  than 
to  you  who  are  tired  of  it  all.  But  do  not  sup- 
pose, Florentina,  that  I  do  not  understand  what 
beauty  is ;  I  can  feel  it  in  my  own  fashion,  and 
my  fancy  almost,  almost  makes  up  for  my  want  of 
sight." 

"That  is  strange. — But  say  what  you  will," 
replied  Florentina,  "  we  will  have  some  good  fun 
when  you  can  see." 


1 66  MARIANELA. 

"  Maybe,"  said  the  blind  boy,  "  that  I  may 
not  find  much  to  say  that  day." 

Nela  meanwhile  was  absolutely  speechless. 

When  they  had  reached  the  crater  of  La  Ter- 
rible, Florentina  was  greatly  struck  by  the  grand 
spectacle  of  the  limestone  rocks,  left  on  the  ground 
after  the  ore  had  been  extracted.  She  compared 
'  them  to  huge  masses  of  sugar  loaves  piled  one  on 
another ;  then,  after  looking  a  second  time,  she 
said  they  were  like  gigantic  dogs  and  cats  turned 
to  stone  at  the  critical  moment  of  a  furious  fight. 

"  Let  us  sit  down  on  this  slope,"  she  said, 
"  and  we  shall  see  the  trains  go  by  with  the  min- 
eral, and  besides  we  can  see  these  stones  which 
are  very  curious.  That  large  rock  in  the  middle 
has  a  wide  mouth  —  do  you  see,  Nela? — and  out 
of  the  mouth  sticks  a  toothpick ;  it  is  a  tree  that 
has  grown  all  alone  there.  It  looks  as  if  it  were 
laughing  at  us,  for  it  has  eyes  too ;  and  there,  far- 
ther on,  is  one  with  a  hump,  another  smoking  a 
pipe,  and  two  pulling  each  other's  hair ;  there  is 
one  yawning,  another  asleep  and  drunk,  and  an- 
other head  downwards  supporting  a  cathedral  on 
his  feet ;  then  there  is  one  playing  the  guitar,  with 
a  dog's  head  and  coffee-pot  on  it  like  a  cap." 

"  What  you  are  saying,"  observed  the  blind 
man,  "proves  to  me  how  differently  things  are 


MARIAN  ELA.  167 

seen  by  different  eyes,  and  that  the  precious  gift  of 
sight  sometimes  travesties  them  strangely,  chang- 
ing their  natural  form  into  something  whimsical 
and  unreal ;  for,  after  all,  what  you  see  before  you 
are  neither  cats  nor  men,  toothpicks,  cathedrals, 
nor  coffee-pots,  but  merely  limestone  rocks  and 
masses  of  calcareous  stone  stained  with  oxide  of 
iron.  And  it  is  your  eye  that  burlesques  so  sim- 
ple a  fact." 

"  You  are  right,  cousin ;  and  for  that  very 
reason  I  say  it  is  our  imagination  that  sees, 
and  not  our  eyes.  Nevertheless  our  sight  is  use- 
ful— to  inform  us,  for  instance,  of  certain  things 
which  poor  people  have  not  got  and  which  we 
who  are  rich  can  give  them."  And  as  she  spoke 
she  touched  Nela's  dress. 

"  Why  does  not  this  dear  little  Nela  wear  bet- 
ter clothes  ?"  she  went  on.  "  I  have  a  number  of 
frocks  and  I  will  give  her  one — and  a  new  one 
too,  into  the  bargain."  Marianela,  covered  with 
blushes  and  confusion,  did  not  raise  her  eyes. 

"  That  is  a  thing  I  can  never  understand  :  why 
some  have  so  much  and  others  so  little.  I  get  quite 
angry  with  Papa  when  I  hear  him  abusing  those 
who  wish  that  everything  should  be  divided  so 
that  all  should  have  an  equal  share.  What  do  they 
call  those  people,  Pablo  ?" 


1 68  MARIANELA. 

"  Socialists — communists.  ..."  said  the  lad 
smiling. 

"  Well,  those  are  the  people  for  me.  I  vote  for 
a  redistribution,  so  that  the  rich  should  give  the 
poor  all  they  have  too  much  of.  Why  should  this 
orphan  go  barefoot  when  I  wear  shoes  ?  Even 
wicked  people  ought  not  to  be  destitute,  much  less 
good  ones.  Now,  I  know  that  Nela  is  very  good, 
you  told  me  so  last  evening,  and  your  father  said 
so  too.  And  she  has  no  parents,  no  one  to  care 
for  her.  How  is  it  that  there  are  so  many,  many, 
miserable  creatures  in  the  world  ?  My  bread  burns 
my  mouth  when  I  remember  how  many  there  are 
who  have  none  at  all.  Poor  little  Nela !  such  a 
good  child,  and  so  forlorn !  It  seems  impossible 
that  to  this  day  you  should  have  lived  without 
being  loved,  without  any  one  to  give  you  a  kiss  nor 
to  cuddle  and  pet  you  as  we  pet  little  children — 
my  heart  aches  to  think  of  it." 

Marianela  was  as  completely  petrified  with  as- 
tonishment as  at  the  first  sight  of  the  apparition. 
Then  she  had  seen  the  Virgin  Mary,  now  she 
heard  her  very  words. 

"  Listen,  little  one,"  the  Holy  Maiden  went  on, 
"and  you,  Pablo,  listen  too.  I  must  help  and 
comfort  Nela — not  as  we  help  the  beggars  by  the 
road,  but  as  we  try  to  help  a  brother  whom  we 


MARIANELA:  169 

find  unexpectedly.  Did  you  not  tell  me  that  she 
has  been  your  companion,  your  lazarillo,  your 
guide  through  the  darkness  ?  That  you  saw  with 
her  eyes  and  trod  in  her  steps  ?  Nela  is  mine  as 
much  as  yours  then,  and  I  shall  take  charge  of 
her.  I  will  dress  her  and  give  her  everything  she 
can  want  to  live  decently,  and  teach  her  a  hundred 
things  to  make  her  useful  in  the  house.  Papa  told 
me  that  perhaps  I  might  always  have  to  live  here ; 
and,  if  so,  Nela  will  live  with  me ;  with  me  she 
will  learn  to  read,  to  say  her  prayers,  to  sew  and 
to  cook ;  she  will  learn  so  many  things  that  she 
will  know  as  much  as  I  do.  What  do  you  think 
of  my  plan  ?  She  will  soon  be  nothing  short  of  a 
young  lady.  My  father  will  not  prevent  me  I 
know.  Indeed,  last  evening  he  said  to  me :  'Flor- 
entinilla  perhaps,  perhaps,  before  long  I  shall  not 
rule  you  any  longer ;  you  may  have  to  obey  an- 
other master.  ..."  Well,  be  that  as  it  may,  Nela 
shall  be  my  friend.  Will  you  love  me  ?  dearly  ? 
You  have  lived  so  neglected — as  the  wild  flowers 
grow  in  the  fields — that  you  do  not  even  know 
how  to  say  thank  you  —  but  never  mind  I  will 
teach  you ;  oh !  I  have  to  teach  you  so  many- 
things." 

Marianela,  who  had  been  making  stupendous 
efforts  not  to  cry  as  she  listened  to  these  splendid 


I7O  MARIANELA. 

promises,  could  at  last  hold  in  no  longer  and,  after 
screwing  up  her  face  for  a  minute,  burst  into  tears. 
The  blind  boy  sat  silent,  lost  in  thought. 

"Florentina,"  he  said  presently,"  you  speak 
and  think  differently  from  most  other  people. 
Your  goodness  is  as  infinite  and  as  enthusiastic  as 
that  which  has  filled  the  world  with  martyrs  and 
peopled  heaven  with  saints." 

"What  an  extravagant  way  of  putting  it!" 
said  the  girl  laughing,  and  she  rose  to  gather  a 
flower  that  had  attracted  her  attention  at  some  lit- 
tle distance. 

"  Is  she  gone  ?"  asked  Pablo. 

"  Yes,"  said  Nela,  gulping  down  her  tears. 

"  Do  you  know  ?"  said  Pablo,  "  I  fancy  my 
cousin  must  be  rather  pretty.  When  she  arrived 
last  evening  I  felt  the  greatest  antipathy  towards 
her ;  I  cannot  tell  you  what  a  dislike  I  took  to  her. 
But  to-day  I  fancy  I  can  see  her,  and  that  she 
must  be  rather  pretty." 

Nela  began  to  cry  again. 

"  She  is  like  an  angel !"  she  said  with  a  flood  of 
tears.  "She  looks  as  if  she  had  just  come  straight 
from  Heaven.  Body  and  soul  she  is  exactly  like 
the  Holy  Virgin  Mary." 

"  Oh  !  do  not  exaggerate,"  said  Pablo  uneasily. 
"  She  cannot  be  so  lovely  as  you  say.  Do  not  im- 


MARIANELA.  I /I 

agine  that  because  I  have  no  eyes  I  cannot  feel 
who  is  beautiful  and  who  is  not." 

"  No,  no,  you  cannot  feel  it,  you  do  not  under- 
stand.—  Oh!  you  are  mistaken,  quite  mistaken." 

"No,  no.  She  cannot  be  so  beautiful,"  the 
blind  lad  insisted,  turning  very  pale  as  he  spoke. 
".Nela,  darling  of  my  heart,  do  you  know  what 
my  father  told  me  ?  That  if  I  recover  my  sight  I 
am  to  marry  Florentina." 

Nela  could  not  answer ;  her  tears  continued  to 
flow  in  silence,  pouring  down  her  burning  cheeks 
and  dropping  on  her  hands.  But  not  even  the 
bitterest  tears  could  give  expression  or  relief  to 
her  intense  grief.  It  was  immeasurable,  infinite, 
that  was  all  she  knew. 

"  I  know  why  you  are  crying  so  much,"  the 
blind  youth  said  holding  her  hands  very  tightly  in 
his  own.  "  But  my  father  will  not  insist  on  mak- 
ing me  marry  against  my  will.  For  me  there  is  no 
wife  in  the  world  but  you.  When  my  eyes  can 
see,  they  will  care  for  no  beauty  but  your  heavenly 
Jace ;  all  others  will  be  but  shades,  too  remote  and 
dim  to  attract  my  gaze.  Oh  God !  what  is  a 
human  face  like  ?  How  does  the  soul  stand  re- 
vealed in  flesh  ?  If  light  cannot  avail  to  give  an- 
other aspect  to  thought  and  fancy,  of  what  use  is 
it  at  all  ?  That  which  we  conceive  of  and  that 


1/2  MARIANELA. 

which  is — are  they  not  one  and  the  same  thing  ? 
Are  not  the  idea  and  the  form  the  same  to  each 
other  as  fire  and  heat  ?  Can  they  be  separated  ? 
And  can  you  cease  to  be  the  fairest  in  the  world 
to  me,  the  sweetest  and  best  beloved,  when  I  am 
lord  of  the  vast  domain  of  the  visible  ?" 

Florentina  now  rejoined  them,  and  they  talked 
as  they  went  home  ;  but  nothing  more  was  said  of 
sufficient  interest  to  be  set  down  here. 


CHAPTER  XVI. 

THE  VOW. 

NOTHING  of  importance  occurred  on  the  two 
following  days,  but  then  there  came  one  on  which 
the  deed  was  done,  the  wonderful,  crowning,  fate- 
ful deed.  Teodoro  Golfin,  in  whose  hands  the 
surgeon's  knife  was  as  the  chisel  of  a  Genius,  had 
attempted  to  amend  one  of  Nature's  most  delicate 
works.  Unflinching  and  calm  he  took  possession, 
as  it  were,  in  virtue  of  his  science  and  experience, 
of  the  marvellous  speck  in  which  the  glorious 
scheme  of  the  Universe  is  epitomized  and  concen- 
trated. The  task  before  him  was  nothing  less  than 
to  stand  face  to  face  with  the  mystery  of  Life ;  to 
investigate  and  discover  the  causes  which  hindered 


MARIANELA.  1/3 

a  living  eye  from  taking  cognizance  of  things  visi- 
ble. For  this  a  firm  soul  was  needed  and  a  tender 
hand.  The  delicate  tissue  of  the  cornea  must  be 
divided,  the  crystalline  lens  removed,  carefully 
avoiding  the  hyaloid  membrane  and  the  vitreous 
humor ;  the  dimensions  of  the  pupil  must  be  in- 
creased by  an  incision,  and  the  condition  of  the 
inner  chamber  of  the  eye  ascertained  by  induction 
or  by  examination. 

Few  words  were  spoken  after  this  daring  ex- 
pedition into  a  microcosm — an  enterprise  not  less 
bold  than  the  attempt  to  measure  the  distance  be- 
tween the  stars,  or  to  guage  the  infinite  realms  of 
space.  Those  who  were  present  sat  in  silent  sus- 
pense, as  they  might  await  the  resurrection  of  a 
dead  man  or  the  creation  of  a  new  world.  Golfin 
said  nothing  definite  either : 

"  Iris  contractile,"  he  muttered.  "  Retina  sen- 
sitive. .  .  .  Nerves  living  and  sound.  ..."  And  yet 
the  function,  the  fact,  the  act  of  seeing — where 
was  that  ? 

"Time  will  show,"  said  Don  Teodoro,  as  he 
carefully  adjusted  the  bandages.  "  Patience." 

And  his  leonine  face  expressed  neither  disap- 
pointment nor  triumph,  neither  hope  nor  doubt. 
Science  had  done  all  she  could  ;  it  was  almost  like 
an  act  of  creation,  like  many  others  she  has 


1 74  MARIANELA. 

enabled  us  to  perform  in  this  nineteenth  century. 
Nature,  thus  boldly  defied  and  resenting  such  an  in- 
trusion on  her  secrets,  held  her  peace. 

The  patient  was  strictly  forbidden  to  see  any 
one  but  his  father,  who  waited  on  him ;  no  one 
else  was  admitted.  Nela  went  several  times  to  en- 
quire for  the  invalid ;  but  she  never  crossed  the 
threshold,  she  waited  outside  till  Don  Manuel 
should  come  out,  or  his  daughter,  or  some  mem- 
ber of  the  household.  The  young  lady,  after  giving 
her  the  fullest  information  and  painting  in  lively 
colors  the  anxiety  they  all  felt,  would  go  out  to 
walk  with  her.  One  day  Florentina  insisted  that 
Nela  should  show  her  where  she  lived,  and  they 
went  down  to  Centeno's  hovel ;  the  squalid  inte- 
rior horrified  and  disgusted  Florentina;  above  all, 
the  baskets  which  served  as  the  orphan's  bed. 

"  Well,  Nela  will  very  soon  come  to  live  with 
me,"  said  Florentina,  getting  out  of  the  stuffy  hole 
as  fast  as  she  could,  "  and  then  she  will  have  a 
bedroom  just  like  mine,  and  will  dress  and  feed  as 
I  do." 

Dame  Centeno  and  her  two  girls  stood  open- 
mouthed  with  astonishment  at  this  speech.  They 
began  to  think  that  the  hapless  and  neglected  or- 
phan must  have  found  her  father  in  some  Prince 
or  King,  as  the  orphans  do  in  the  tales. 


MARIANELA.  1/5 

When  they  had  left  the  house  behind  them 
Florentina  said  to  her  companion  :  "  Pray  to  God 
day  and  night  that  He  may  grant  my  dear  cousin 
the  blessing  which  we  all  enjoy  and  which  He  has 
denied  to  him.  What  an  anxious  state  we  live  in  ! 
If  he  gains  his  sight  a  thousand  delightful  things 
will  follow  and  many  difficulties  will  be  removed. 
I  have  made  a  solemn  vow  to  the  Virgin ;  I  have 
promised  that  if  she  grants  my  cousin  his  sight  I 
will  take  under  my  care  the  very  poorest  creature  I 
can  find,  and  give  her  all  that  can  make  her  en- 
tirely forget  her  poverty,  making  her  my  own  equal 
in  every  respect,  as  happy  and  as  comfortable  as 
I  am.  And  it  is  not  enough  merely  to  give  her 
clothes,  or  set  her  down  to  a  table  with  plenty  of 
soup  and  meat.  No,  there  is  another  charity 
which  is  worth  more  than  all  the  broken  food  and 
frippery  in  the  world — kindness,  respect,  consider- 
ation, and  a  name.  I  will  give  her  these  too,  and 
teach  her  to  respect  herself.  I  have  found  the 
person  I  want,  Maria — it  is  you.  I  have  promised 
the  Holy  Virgin  from  the  bottom  of  my  soul  that 
if  she  will  bestow  the  gift  of  sight  on  my  cousin, 
you  shall  be  my  sister.  You  shall  be  the  same  as 
myself,  in  my  house,  exactly  like  my  sister."  As  she 
spoke  Nela's  Virgin  clasped  the  girl  in  her  arms 
and  kissed  her  on  the  forehead. 


IJ6  MARIANELA. 

It  is  impossible  to  give  any  idea  of  the  poor  lit- 
tle vagabond's  feelings  in  this  crowning  hour  of  her 
life.  An  instinctive  dread  kept  her  away  from  the 
house  at  Aldeacorba,  a  dread  that  was  dimly  mixed 
up  with  the  personality  of  her  young  benefactress, 
like  the  figures  we  see  in  a  nightmare ;  while,  at 
the  same  time,  she  felt  tender  admiration  and 
reverence  for  her.  Now  and  again,  in  her  inno- 
cent bewilderment,  she  fancied  it  must  be  the  Vir- 
gin Mary  in  her  actual  presence  ;  in  no  other  way 
could  she  conceive  of  the  kind-heartedness  which 
smiled  upon  her,  like  the  realms  of  Paradise,  from 
the  open  soul  of  Florentina,  with  its  purity,  ten- 
derness, gentleness,  and  gracious  consolations. 
Nela's  honest  instinct  made  her  feel  and  understand 
at  once  that  she  could  not  hate  her  self-constituted 
sister.  Hate  her  !  How  could  she  ?  She  felt  she 
must  love  her  with  all  the  strength  of  her  soul. 
Her  aversion  and  repulsion  sank  to  the  bottom  like 
a  sediment  after  fermentation,  and  there  decom- 
posed and  vanished,  their  elements  recombining 
to  intensify  the  admiration  and  respect  she  felt  for 
her  benefactress.  Still,  though  the  feeling  had 
disappeared,  the  cause  remained — the  sentiment 
which,  as  it  could  no  longer  flourish  singly  in  her 
soul,  with  that  masterful  exclusiveness  which  is 
characteristic  of  such  passions,  revenged  itself  by 


MARIANELA.  1 77 

producing  that  utter  dejection  which  is  the  very 
demon  of  melancholy. 

At  Centeno's  they  remarked  that  Nela  did  not 
eat,  that  she  seemed  wearier  than  usual,  that  for 
long  intervals  she  sat  as  silent  and  motionless  as  a 
statue,  and  that  she  sang  no  longer,  day  or  night. 
Her  incapacity  for  exertion  had  become  absolute 
helplessness,  and  Tanasio,  having  sent  her  to  buy 
him  some  tobacco,  she  sat  down  in  the  road  and 
remained  there  for  the  rest  of  the  day. 

One  morning,  just  a  week  after  the  operation 
had  been  performed,  she  went  up  to  the  engineer's 
house,  and  Sofia  said  to  her  :  "  A  gift  for  good 
news  Nela  !  Have  you  heard  ?  They  have  taken 
off  the  bandages  to-day,  and  they  say  he  can  see, 
that  he  will  see  quite  well.  Ulysses,  the  foreman 
of  the  works,  has  just  been  to  tell  us.  Teodoro 
has  not  been  here,  but  my  husband  has  gone  to 
Aldeacorba — we  shall  know  the  truth  very  soon." 

Nela,  as  she  heard  it,  fejttnpre  dead  than  alive, 
and  crossing  her  hands  she  exclaimed  :  "  Blessed 
be  the  Holy  Virgin  who  has  worked  this  wonder ! 
—  She,  she  alone  has  done  it." 

"You  are  glad  little  one? — No  wonder,  for 
now  Senorita  Florentina  will  keep  her  promise," 
said  Sofia  in  a  bantering  tone.  "  Allow  me  to  con- 
gratulate you,  Senorita  Dona  Nela. — Why  it  is 


1/8  MARIANELA. 

like  a  lottery  !  What  a  big  prize,  Nelilla !  And 
yet  you  may  not  be  grateful — no,  you  will  not. 
I  never  yet  knew  any  poor  who  were  grateful. 
They  are  all  proud,  and  the  more  you  give  them 
the  more  they  ask.  — Well,  it  is  a  settled  thing  that 
Pablo  is  to  marry  his  cousin,  and  it  is  a  very 
good  match  ;  they  are  a  handsome  pair  and  she 
seems  no  fool — and  she  has  a  sweet  pretty  face ; 
what  a  pity  to  spoil  such  a  face  and  figure  by  dress- 
ing so  villanously  !  No,  no,  if  I  want  to  dress  well  I 
will  not  apply  to  the  dressmaker  at  Santa  Irene  de 
Campo." 

As  she  spoke  Don  Carlos  came  in ;  he  was 
radiant  with  satisfaction  and  delight 

"  A  complete  success !"  he  shouted  as  he 
reached  the  door.  "  Next  to  God  stands  my 
brother  Teodoro !" 

"  It  is  quite  certain  ?" 

"As  sure  as  daylight — I  never  believed  it 
could  be. — And  what  a  triumph,  Sofia !  What  a 
triumph  !  It  is  my  greatest  pride  and  happiness 
to  be  my  brother's  brother.  He  is  the  king  of 
men. — Yes,  as  I  say:  First  God,  and  then  Teo- 
doro !" 


MARIANELA.  179 


CHAPTER  XVII. 

A   FUGITIVE. 

THE  wonderful  good  news  flew  through 
Socartes.  Nothing  else  was  talked  of  in  the 
smelting-houses,  in  the  workshops,  in  the  washing- 
mills,  on  the  tram-way,  in  the  deepest  diggings, 
and  on  the  top  of  the  hill,  in  the  bowels  of  the  earth 
or  the  open  light  of  heaven.  Various  interesting 
commentaries  were  added :  that  in  Aldeacorba  it 
was  thought  for  a  moment  that  Don  Francisco 
was  out  of  his  wits  with  joy ;  that  Don  Manuel 
meant  to  celebrate  the  happy  event  by  giving  a 
grand  banquet  to  all  the  hands  employed  in  the 
mines ;  and,  finally,  that  Don  Teodoro  was  a  great 
man,  whom  all  blind  men,  present  or  to  come, 
might  indeed  esteem,  "  as  the  apple  of  their  eye." 

Nela  could  not  venture  to  go  to  the  house  at 
Aldeacorba.  A  mysterious  force  seemed  to  hold 
her  back.  She  wandered  all  day  round  and  about 
the  mines,  gazing  from  afar  at  the  Penaguilas1 
house,  which  in  her  eyes,  looked  transformed. 
Her  spirit  was  full  of  a  strange  compound  of  the 
sincerest  joy  and  an  overwhelming  shamefaced- 
ness,  of  noble  devotion  and  with  it  the  unendura- 


ISO  MARIANELA. 

ble  aching,  so  to  speak,  of  an  intensely  sensitive 
self-consciousness. 

She  found  some  surcease  from  the  turmoil  of 
her  brain  in  that  motherly  solitude  which  had 
contributed  so  largely  to  the  formation  of  her 
character,  and  in  dreaming  over  the  beauty  of 
Nature,  which  always  lifted  her  soul  to  closer  com- 
munion with  the  Divinity.  The  clouds  in  the  sky 
and  the  flowers  of  the  field  affected  her  mind  as 
others  are  affected  by  the  pomp  of  altars,  the  elo- 
quence of  preachers  and  the  study  of  the  medita- 
tions of  the  mystics.  In  the  solitude  of  the  open 
country  she  thought  and  said  a  thousand  things 
that  she  never  dreamed  were  aspirations  and 
prayers.  She  looked  towards  Aldeacorba,  and 
said  to  herself: 

"  I  will  never  go  there  again. — All  is  over  and 
done.  —  Of  what  use  can  I  be  now?" 

With  all  her  ignorance  she  understood  that  the 
struggle  in  her  soul  arose  from  her  incapacity  to 
hate  any  one ;  on  the  contrary,  she  was  constrained 
to  love  her  friend  and  her  enemy  alike,  and  just 
as  thistles  turned  into  flowers  under  the  miraculous 
touch  of  some  Christian  martyr,  Nela  perceived 
that  her  jealousy  and  aversion  were  graciously 
blossoming  into  admiration  and  gratitude.  That 
which  could  undergo  no  change  was  the  feeling 


MARIANELA.  l8l 

we  have  described  as  self-conscious  shame,  and 
which  urged  her  to  keep  herself  quite  apart  from 
any  events  which  might  henceforth  occur  in  Al- 
deacorba.  It  was  a  special  aspect  of  the  senti- 
ment which  in  civilized  and  educated  persons  is 
called  amour  propre,  which  includes  in  itself  the 
capacity  for  self-depreciation.  The  connection, 
however,  between  her  feeling  and  that  which  has 
so  large  a  share  in  the  actions  of  cultivated  per- 
sons, consisted  in  the  fact  that  both  were  founded 
on  a  punctilious  sense  of  dignity.  If  Marianela 
could  have  expressed  herself  in  their  language 
she  would  have  said : 

"  My  dignity  will  not  allow  me  to  submit  to 
the  horrible  degradation  you  would  put  upon  me. 
It  is  God's  will  that  I  should  endure  this  humilia- 
tion—  so  be  it;  but  I  cannot  stand  by  and  see 
myself  deposed  and  discrowned.  May  his  bless- 
ings fall  on  the  head  of  her  who,  by  a  law  of 
nature,  must  fill  the  place  I  once  occupied  — but 
I  have  not  the  courage  to  put  her  there  with  my 
own  hands." 

But  not  being  able  to  utter  her  pain  in  these 
words,  she  could  only  say :  "  I  will  never  go  to 
Aldeacorba  again  —  I  will  never  let  him  see  me. 
I  will  run  away  with  Celipin,  or  I  will  go  to  my 
mother.  I  am  of  no  use  now  to  any  one." 


1 82  MARIANELA. 

Still,  even  while  she  said  this,  it  struck  her  as 
very  sad  that  she  should  have  to  give  up  the 
divine  protection  of  that  Heavenly  Maiden  who 
had  appeared  to  her  in  the  darkest  hour  of  her  life, 
and  cast  her  sheltering  mantle  over  her  !  To  think 
that  after  seeing  the  vision  realized  which  had  so 
often  appeared  to  her  in  dreams  of  thrilling  beati- 
tude, she  must  renounce  it — to  have  heard  herself 
called  by  a  gentle  voice,  that  offered  her  a  sister's 
love,  a  happy  home,  position,  a  name,  and  a  lux- 
urious existence — and  then  be  unable  to  obey  the 
invitation  with  joy,  alacrity  and  thankfulness — to 
reject  the  hand  which  would  snatch  her  from  a  life 
of  degradation  and  misery,  and  make  a  lady  of 
the  wretched  vagabond,  raising  her  from  the  rank 
of  a  domestic  animal  to  that  of  a  loved  and 
respected  woman !.-... 

"  Woe,  woe !"  she  cried,  clutching  her  bosom 
as  if  her  fingers  were  talons:  "I  cannot,  never, 
never .  .  .  Nothing  in  the  world  shall  ever  take  me 
to  Aldeacorba !  Virgin,  mother  of  my  soul,  take 
me,  take  me .  .  .  Mother,  will  you  not  come  and 
fetch  me !" 

As  night  came  on,  she  went  home ;  on  her  way 
she  met  Celipin  with  a  stick  in  his  hand  and  his 
cap  hung  on  the  end  of  it. 

"Look  here,  Nelilla,"  said  the  boy:    "Is  not 


MARIANELA.  183 

this  how  Don  Teodoro  carries  his  hat  ?  Just  now 
I  was  passing  the  pool  at  Hinojales  and  I  looked 
at  my  reflection  in  the  water.  My !  was  not  I 
surprised — I  thought  I  looked  just  like  Don  Teo- 
doro Golfin.  Some  day  this  week  we  will  set  out 
to  become  learned  and  useful  persons.  I  have 
got  as  much  money  now  as  I  want,  and  you  will 
see,  no  one  will  dare  to  laugh  at  Senor  de  Celipin." 

For  three  days  Nela  kept  out  of  the  way, 
wandering  about  the  neighborhood  of  the  mines, 
following  the  course  of  the  river  along  its  rugged 
banks,  or  hiding  herself  in  the  quiet  recesses  of 
the  wood  of  Saldeoro.  The  nights  she  spent. in 
her  basket,  but  she  could  not  sleep.  One  night 
she  timidly  called  her  companion  : 

"  Celipin — when  ?"  and  Celipin  replied  with 
all  the  solemnity  befitting  a  regular  expedition  : 

"To-morrow." 

The  two  adventurers  rose  at  day-break,  and 
both  went  their  way ;  Celipin  to  his  work,  and 
Nela  to  carry  a  message  from  Senana  to  the  en- 
gineer's housekeeper.  On  her  return  she  found 
Senorita  Florentina,  who  was  waiting  for  her  at 
Centenc's  house.  Maria  was  surprised  and  alarmed 
at  seeing  her,  though  her  instinct  told  her  of  the 
end  and  object  of  this  visit. 

"  Nela,  my  little  sister,"  said  the  girl  with  en- 


184  MARIANELA. 

gaging  gentleness  :  "  Why  are  you  behaving  so 
strangely  ?  Why  have  you  not  been  near  us  all 
these  days  ?  Come,  Pablo  wishes  to  see  you.  Do 
you  not  know  that  now  he  can  say :  '  I  want  to 
see  this  thing  or  the  other  ?'  Do  you  not  know 

x 

that  my  cousin  is  no  longer  blind  ?" 

"Yes — I  know  it,"  said  Nela,  taking 'the  hand 
Florentina  held  out  to  her  and  covering  it  with 
kisses. 

"  Come  along  then  ;  come  at  once.  He  is  al- 
ways asking  for  '  Seiiora  Nela.'  And  to-day  you 
must  be  there  when  Don  Teodoro  takes  the  ban- 
dage off — it  is  the  fourth  time.  Oh  !  the  first  day 
— when  he  first  tried  it !  What  a  day  that  was  ! 
When  we  knew  for  certain  that  my  cousin  was 
born  again,  as  I  may  say,  to  the  light  of  day — we 
almost  died  of  joy. — And  the  first  face  he  saw  was 
mine.  —  Come  along,  quickly."  But  Maria  drew 
her  hand  out  of  her  Virgin's  clasp. 

"  Have  you  forgotten  my  promise,  my  vow  ?" 
Florentina  went  on,  "  or  did  you  think  I  was 
talking  at  random  ?  But  indeed,  nothing  I  can  do 
seems  enough  to  show  our  Mother  of  Mercies  my 
gratitude  for  the  grace  she  has  shown  us.  I  should 
like  that,  on  this  day,  not  a  creature  that  the  whole 
world  contains  should  be  sad.  I  should  like  to 
divide  my  happiness,  and  fling  it  abroad  on  all  sides, 


MARIANELA.  185 

as  the  sower  casts  the  seed ;  I  should  like  to  go 
into  every  wretched  dwelling  and  say :  '  All  your 
troubles  are  ended.  I  have  a  remedy  for  them 
all.' — But  it  is  impossible;  no  one  can  do  that  but 
God.  Still,  as  my  powers  are  not  equal  to  my  will, 
let  me  at  any  rate  do  what  I  can  —  and  these  are 
not  mere  words,  Nela.  Come  with  me,  away  from 
this  hovel ;  bid  farewell  to  everything  that  has 
made  part  of  your  misery  and  your  loneliness. 
For  you  may  have  an  affection,  even  for  your 
wretchedness,  my  child." 

Marianela  did  not,  however,  say  good-bye  to 
anything ;  and  as  none  of  the  family  were  indoors 
at  that  hour,  she  did  not  wait  for  them.  Florentina 
went  out,  leading  by  the  hand  the  poor  little  girl 
whom  her  noble  impulses  and  Christian  feeling  had 
adopted  to  be  her  equal;  and  Nela  allowed  herself 
to  be  led,  from  sheer  incapacity  to  offer  any  resis- 
tance. She  felt  as  though  some  superhuman  power 
had  taken  her  in  hand  and  was  carrying  her  along, 
fatally  and  inevitably,  as  the  angels  bear  a  soul 
away  to  Heaven. 

They  took  the  path  by  Hinojales,  where  the 
vagabond  child  had  seen  Florentina  for  the  first 
time.  As  they  turned  into  the  lane  the  young 
lady  said  to  her  companion. 

"  Why  have  you  not  been  to  the  house  ?     My 


1 86  MARIANELA. 

uncle  says  that  you  have  so  much  natural  modesty 
and  delicacy  that  it  is  a  pity  you  should  not  have 
been  educated.  Was  it  delicacy  that  kept  you 
from  coming  to  ask  for  what,  by  God's  mercy, 
you  had  so  happily  gained  ?  Without  doubt  my 
uncle  is  right.  .  .  .  You  should  have  seen  the 
poor  dear  man  that  day  —  he  said  he  should 
not  be  sorry  to  die  !  —  Do  you  see  ?  My  eyes  are 
still  red  with  crying  so  much.  And  last  night  my 
uncle  and  my  father  and  I  never  went  to  sleep  ; 
we  were  making  plans  for  all  the  family  and 
building  castles  in  the  air  all  night — Why  do  you 
say  nothing  ?  Why  are  you  so  silent  ?  Are  you 
not  as  glad  as  I  am?" 

Nela  looked  up  in  the  girl's  bright  face  and 
made  a  faint  effort  to  resist  the  gentle  hand  that 
held  hers. 

"Come  along — what  is  the  matter  ?  You  look 
at  me  so  strangely  Nela." 

She  did  indeed ;  the  hapless  child's  eyes  wan- 
dering vaguely  from  one  object  to  another,  ended 
by  fixing  themselves  on  the  Virgin  of  her  fancy, 
with  a  strange  glitter  of  apprehension. 

"Why  does  your  hand  tremble  so?"  Floren- 
tina  went  on.  "  Are  you  ill  ?  You  are  as  pale  as 
death  and  your  teeth  are  chattering.  If  you  are 
ill  I  will  cure  you,  I  myself  can  cure  you.  From 


MARIANELA.  l8/ 

this  day  you  will  have  some  one  to  care  for  you, 
and  pet  you,  and  make  much  of  you.  And  I  shall 
not  be  alone  you  know,  for  Pablo  is  very  fond  of 
you — he  told  me  so.  We  both  love  you  dearly 
and  he  and  I  shall  be  like  one  person.  —  He  wants 
to  see  you.  Just  fancy  how  full  of  curiosity  a 
man  must  be  who  has  never  seen  anything  at  all ; 
but  you  cannot  think  how — from  being  so  clever 
as  he  is,  and  having  an  imagination  which  seems 
to  have  given  him  a  number  of  ideas  which  blind 
people  scarcely  ever  have — from  the  first  moment 
he  knew  what  was  pretty  and  what  was  ugly.  A 
bit  of  scarlet  sealing-wax  pleased  him  at  once  and 
a  piece  of  coal  he  thought  hideous.  He  admired 
the  beauty  of  the  sky  and  was  disgusted  at  the 
sight  of  a  frog.  Everything  that  is  beautiful 
excites  him  to  an  enthusiasm  that  is  almost  deli- 
rium ;  everything  ugly  fills  him  with  horror,  and 
makes  him  tremble  as  we  do  when  we  are  fright- 
ened. My  appearance  must  have  pleased  him, 
for  he  exclaimed  as  soon  as  he  saw  me:  "Oh! 
cousin,  how  pretty  you  are !  Thank  God  for  hav- 
ing bestowed  sight  on  me  so  that  I  can  see  you  !" 
Nela  had  gently  withdrawn  her  hand  from 
Florentina's  grasp  and  fell  on  the  ground  as  if 
suddenly  stricken  to  death.  The  young  girl  bent 
over  her,  saying  in  coaxing  tones:  "Oh  !  what  is 


1 88  MARIANELA. 

it  ails  you  ?  Why  do  you  look  at  me  so  ?"  Ma- 
rianela  fixed  her  eyes  on  the  Holy  Virgin's  face 
with  a  miserable  stare ;  still  their  expression  was 
not  one  of  aversion,  but  rather  a  gaze  of  agonized 
entreaty,  like  the  last  look  of  a  dying  man  implor- 
ing mercy  from  the  image  of  the  Saviour,  and 
believing  it  to  be  God  himself. 

"  Senora,"  murmured  the  child,  "I  do  not  hate 
you  —  no  indeed  I  do  not  hate  you.  On  the  con- 
trary, I  love  you  dearly — I  adore  you."  And 
taking  up  the  hem  of  Florentina's  dress  she 
pressed  it  to  her  dry  lips  and  kissed  it  fervently. 

"But  whoever  supposed  you  would  hate  me?" 
said  the  young  girl  greatly  bewildered.  "  I  know 
that  you  love  me.  But  you  frighten  me — get 
up."  ' 

"I  do  love  you,  dearly,  dearly;  I  adore  you," 
repeated  Nela,  kissing  the  feet  of  her  benefactress. 
"And  yet  I  cannot — I  cannot.  ..." 

"  What  cannot  you  do — for  God's  sake  !  get 
up."  Florentina  put  out  her  arms  to  help  her  up; 
but  Nela  rose  without  any  assistance,  and  spring- 
ing away  to  a  safe  distance,  she  repeated,  bursting 
into  a  flood  of  tears : 

"I  cannot  Senorita,  I  cannot." 

"What? — in  Heaven's  name!  what  has  come 
over  you  ?" 


MARIANELA.  189 

"  I  cannot  go  there."  And  she  pointed  to 
Aldeacorba,  where  the  roof  of  Don  Francisco's 
house  was  visible  among  the  trees. 

"  And  why  ?" 

"  The  Blessed  Virgin  knows,"  replied  the  child 
with  prompt  decision.  "  May  the  Holy  Virgin 
bless  you  !"  She  made  a  cross  with  her  fingers 
and  kissed  it ;  she  was  registering  a  vow. 

Florentina  took  a  step  towards  her  and  Maria, 
understanding  the  loving  impulse,  flew  to  meet 
her ;  she  laid  her  head  against  her  friend's  bosom, 
and  murmured  as  she  sobbed :  "  Kiss  me — for 
God's  sake  !  give  me  one  kiss !" 

Florentina  kissed  her  tenderly,  and  then  free- 
ing herself  with  a  start,  or  rather  a  wild  and 
sudden  leap,  the  child — or  woman — fled  to  a 
brake  close  at  hand;  the  brushwood  seemed  to 
open  and  swallow  her  up. 

"Nela,  Nela — little  sister!"  cried  Florentina 
in  much  distress. 

"  Farewell,  child  of  my  eyes  !"  said  Nela,  turn- 
ing round  to  look  at  her  once  more;  and  she 
vanished  in  the  copse. 

Florentina  listened  to  the  rustle  of  the 
branches,  as  the  hunter  listens  to  the  rush  of  the 
prey  that  has  escaped  him.  Then  all  was  silent; 
not  a  sound  was  to  be  heard  but  the  vague  mono- 


190  MARIANELA. 

tone  that  fills  the  atmosphere  at  noon  in  the  open 
country — a  sound  which  seems  to  be  the  whisper 
of  our  own  thoughts  as  they  go  forth  towards  all 
that  surrounds  us.  Florentina  stood  amazed, 
powerless,  speechless,  deeply  distressed — as  if  she 
had  just  seen  some  fond  illusion  snatched  from 
her  gaze.  She  did  not  know  what  to  think  of  it 
all,  and  even  her  unbounded  kind-heartedness, 
which  often  crippled  her  judgment,  could  supply 
no  explanation. 

She  had  been  standing  in  the  same  spot  for 
some  little  time,  her  head  drooping,  her  cheeks 
tingling,  and  her  blue  eyes  full  of  tears,  when 
Teodoro  Golfin  happened  to  come  upon  her,  mak- 
ing his  way  at  an  easy  pace  from  Aldeacorba 
homewards.  The  doctor  was  greatly  astonished 
to  find  the  young  lady  alone  and  with  an  expres- 
sion of  vexation  and  regret  which,  far  from 
diminishing  her  beauty,  added  to  it  and  made  it 
more  interesting. 

"  What  ails  the  girl  ?"  he  exclaimed  with  some 
anxiety.  "  Why,  Florentina,  what  is  the  matter  ?" 

"A  dreadful  thing,  Senor  Golfin,"  said  Flor- 
entina, wiping  her  eyes.  "  I  was  thinking — con- 
sidering how  many  terrible  things  there  are  in  the 
world." 

"  And  what  are  these  terrible  things,  Senorita  ? 


MARIANELA.  191 

Where  have  you  been  ?  Can  anything  have  hap- 
pened to  you  ?" 

"Provoking  things  —  and  of  all  things  there  is 
one  which  is  more  provoking  than  all  the  rest." 

"  What  is  that  ?" 

"  Ingratitude,  Senor."  And  pointing  to  the 
copse  of  bramble  and  fern,  she  added  :  "  It  was  in 
that  direction." 

She  went  up  to  the  highest  spot  at  hand  to 
see  farther  into  the  distance.  "  Quite  out  of  sight !" 
she  said  with  a  sigh. 

"  Quite,"  said  the  surgeon  laughing.  "  Don 
Manuel  told  me  that  you  were  devoting  yourself 
to  collecting  butterflies.  They  are  ungrateful 
creatures  indeed  not  to  wish  to  be  caught  by 
you." 

"  It  is  not  that — I  will  tell  you  all  about  it  if 
you  are  going  to  Aldeacorba." 

"  I  was  not  going,  as  I  have  just  come  away, 
fair  damsel ;  but  if  you  will  tell  me  all  about  it  — 
be  it  what  it  may — I  will  go  back  again.  I  am 
all  ears  for  your  story." 


MARIANELA. 


CHAPTER    XVIII. 

NELA   DECIDES  THAT   SHE   MUST   GO. 

NELA  wandered  about  alone  all  day,  and  at 
night  she  prowled  round  the  house  at  Aldeacorba, 
creeping  as  near  to  it  as  she  dared  without  running 
the  risk  of  being  discovered  ;  whenever  she  heard 
footsteps  she  stole  away  like  a  thief.  Then  she 
went  down  into  the  crater  of  La  Terrible,  whose 
grewsome  aspect  somehow  suited  her  gloomy 
mood ;  she  lingered  there  some  time  looking  up 
at  the  stone  giants  that  stood  round  it,  and  then 
she  climbed  up  one  of  them  to  see  the  lights  of 
Aldeacorba.  There  they  were,  sparkling  above 
the  slopes  of  the  mine  against  the  dark  background 
of  earth  and  sky.  After  gazing  at  them  for  a 
while  as  if  her  hungry  eyes  had  never  seen  lights 
before,  she  quitted  La  Terrible  and  went  towards 
La  Trascava.  But  before  she  reached  it  she  heard 
footsteps,  and  turning  round,  she  saw  Master  Celi- 
pin  coming  along  the  path  at  a  brisk  determined 
pace.  He  had  a  small  bundle  hanging  from  a 
stick  over  his  shoulder,  and  his  step,  as  well  as  his 
air  and  attitude,  announced  a  full  determination 


MARIANEL'A.  193 

never  to  stop  till  he  should  have  paced  the  whole 
circumference  of  the  globe. 

"  Celipe  ! — Where  are  you  going?"  cried 
Nela,  detaining  him. 

"  Nela  .  .  .  you  out  here !  We  thought  you  were 
with  Senorita  Florentina,  eating  ham,  and  turkey, 
and  partridges  all  day  long,  and  drinking  lemonade 
and  syrups.  What  are  you  doing  here  ?" 

"  And  you  —  where  are  you  off  to  ?" 

"  You  ask  me  that,  now  ?  Why  do  you  ask 
me  since  you  know  quite  well,"  answered  the  boy, 
jerking  the  stick  and  bundle.  "  You  know  very  well 
that  I  am  going  to  learn  all  I  can  and  make  money. 
Did  I  not  tell  you  it  would  be  to-night  ?  —  And 
here  I  am,  as  glad  as  can  be  —  a  little  sorry,  too, 
when  I  think  that  father  and  mother  will  cry.  You 
see,  Nela,  the  Blessed  Virgin  favored  us  to-night, 
for  father  and  mother  began  to  snore  sooner  than 
usual ;  and  I  had  my  bundle  ready,  and  I  climbed 
up  to  the  window  and  got  out  of  it.  —  Now  are 
you  coming  or  not  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  am  coming,"  said  Nela  with  sudden 
decision,  taking  the  arm  of  the  adventurous  Celi- 
pin. 

"  We  will  take  the  train,  and  we  will  go  in  the 
train  as  far  as  we  can,"  said  Celipin  with  liberal 
enthusiasm.  "And  then  we  must  beg  till  we  get  to 
13 


194  MARIANELA. 

Madrid,  where  the  King  of  Spain  lives  ;  and  when 
once  we  have  got  there,  you  can  go  as  a  servant 
in  the  house  of  some  Marquis  or  Count,  and  I 
will  go  into  another,  and  at  the  same  time  I  can 
study,  and  you  can  have  a  heap  of  fine  things. 
And  I  can  teach  you  a  little  of  all  I  learn — 
only  a  little,  not  too  much ;  for  you  women  have 
no  need  to  be  as  learned  as  we  doctors  must 
be." 

Before  Celipin  had  ended  his  speech,  they  had 
set  out  on  their  road,  trotting  on  as  fast  as  though 
they  already  saw  in  the  distance  the  turrets  of  the 
city  '"where  the  King  of  Spain  lives." 

"  Let  us  get  out  of  the  regular  path,"  said 
Celipin,  his  practical  talents  rising  to  the  occasion : 
"  If  they  see  us  they  will  lay  hands  upon  us  and 
give  us  a  good  thrashing." 

But  Nela  drew  her  hand  away  from  her  fellow- 
adventurer's,  and  sitting  down  on  a  stone,  she 
said :  "  I  am  not  going." 

"  Nela  !  what  a  little  fool  you  are  !  You  have 
not  a  brave  heart  like  mine ;  a  heart  as  big  as  the 
rocks  in  La  Terrible  !"  said  Celipin,  with  a  brag- 
gart air.  "What  the  devil  are  you  afraid  of?  Why 
will  you  not  come  ?" 

«  I — oh  ! — why  should  I  ?" 

"  Do  not  you  know  that  Don  Golfin  said  that 


MARIANELA.  1 95 

the  work  here  is  turning  us  all  to  stones  ?     I  do 
not  want  to  be  a  stone — not  I." 

"I — why  should  I  go?"  repeated  Nela  with 
disconsolate  bitterness.  "  You  have  time  enough 
—  for  me,  it  is  too  late." 

And  Nela's  head  sunk  on  her  breast  and  she 
sat  for  some  time  insensible  to  the  persuasive  elo- 
quence of  the  Hippocrates  of  the  future.  The 
idea  that  she  was  about  to  cross  the  boundary  of 
the  spot  of  earth  where  she  had  lived  so  long,  and 
where  her  mother  slept  the  sleep  of  the  dead, 
made  her  feel  as  if  she  were  being  torn  up  by  the 
roots.  The  beauty  of  the  place  in  all  its  variety 
seemed  to  claim  her  by  a  sort  of  relationship ;  the 
rare  and  fleeting  joys,  nay,  the  very  misery  she 
had  known  there ;  the  memory  of  her  friend  and 
of  the  happy  hours  when  they  had  walked  in  the 
woods  or  sat  by  the  spring  at  Saldeoro ;  all  the 
feelings  of  admiration  or  of  sympathy,  of  love  or 
of  gratitude,  which  had  grown  and  blossomed  in 
her  soul  among  these  scenes — these  flowers — 
these  clouds  —  these  rustling  trees — these  frown- 
ing rocks — inseparable  as  it  were  from  the  loveli- 
ness or  the  grandeur,  the  progress  and  the  immu- 
tability of  all  these  works  of  nature,  were  so  many 
roots  from  her  heart,  and  dragging  them  up  from 
the  soil  was  bitter  anguish. 

13* 


196  MARIANELA. 

"No — I  am  not  going,"  she  repeated. 

And  Celipin  argued  and  talked  as  if,  having 
by  some  miracle  reached  the  goal  of  his  career, 
he  belonged  to  all  the  academies  present  and  to 
come. 

"  You  are  going  home  then  ?"  he  asked,  seeing 
that  his  oratory  was  as  unavailing  as  that  of  the 
academies  themselves  commonly  is. 

"No." 

"  You  are  going  to  Aldeacorba  ?" 

"No;  not  there  either." 

"Then  you  will  go  to  where  Senora  Floren- 
tina  lives  " 

"  No,  no — not  there." 

"The  devil's  in  it — but  where  are  you  going 
then  ?" 

Nela  did  not  answer;  she  sat  looking  at  the 
ground  with  an  expression  of  dismay,  as  if  she 
saw  there  the  fragments  of  the  most  beautiful  and 
precious  thing  on  earth — fallen  and  lying  broken 
at  her  feet. 

"Well  then,  Nela,"  said  Celipin,  exhausted 
with  his  long  harangue,  "  I  must  leave  you  and 
be  off,  for  they  might  follow  me,  and  find  me. 
Would  you  like  me  to  give  you  a  peseta  as  a 
parting  gift  to-night  ?" 

"No,  Celipin,  I  want  nothing.  —  Go,  you  will 


MARIANELA.  197 

be  a  rich  man  yet.  Take  care  of  yourself  and  do 
not  forget  Socartes  and  your  father  and  mother." 

The  traveller  had  a  sensation  highly  improper 
in  a  man  of  so  much  importance  and  dignity — a 
strong  disposition  to  cry;  but  swallowing  down 
this  inopportune  emotion,  he  said  : 

"  How  should  I  ever  forget  Socartes  ?  You 
need  not  have  said  that — I  shall  never  forget  my 
father  and  mother,  nor  you,  for  you  helped  me  to 
do  this. — Good-bye,  Nelilla — hark!  I  hear  foot- 
steps !" 

Celipin  shouldered  his  staff  with  a  resolution 
that  symbolized  his  courage  to  defy  all  the  dan- 
gers of  the  wide  world ;  but  his  valorous  display 
was  wasted,  for  a  dog  only  came  running  up  to 
them. 

"  It  is  Choto,"  said  Nela,  trembling  all  over. 

"  A  bad  sign  !"  muttered  Celipin,  setting  for- 
ward ;  and  he  disappeared  in  the  darkness. 

A  stone  was  lost  to  geology,  and  the  world 
would  be  the  richer  by  a  great  man  ! 

Nela  shivered  as  the  dog  leaped  upon  her  and 
caressed  her.  The  affectionate  creature,  after 
jumping  round  and  round  her,  whining  and  bark- 
ing with  so  much  expression  that  it  was  almost 
like  speaking,  set  off  running  as  fast  as  he  could 
towards  Aldeacorba.  You  might  have  thought 


198  MARIANELA. 

he  was  in  chase  of  some  wild  game.  Choto — 
unlike  some  orators — seemed  to  speak  when  he 
barked. 


Just  at  this  time  Teodoro  Golfin  was  coming 
away  from  the  Penaguilas'.  He  was  met  by 
Choto,  who,  with  voluble  haste,  told  him — I  know 
not  what.  It  was  a  fervent,  fitful  address,  delivered 
between  his  gasps  for  breath  and  gushes  of  eager 
anxiety.  Golfin,  though  he  understood  several 
languages,  was  not  strong  in  the  canine  tongue, 
and  paid  no  particular  heed.  Choto  leaped  up 
and  round  him,  jerking  out  barks  from  his  moist 
jaws,  some  short  and  sharp  as  insults,  others  soft 
and  coaxing,  and  then  again  threats.  Teodoro 
meanwhile  stood  still,  his  attention  was  struck  by 
the  dog's  manner;  and  Choto,  seeing  that  he  had 
made  himself  understood  to  a  certain  extent, 
began  to  run  in  a  contrary  direction  to  Golfin's 
homeward  road.  The  doctor  followed  him. 
"Very  well,"  he  muttered,  "that  way  then." 

Choto  retraced  his  steps,  as  if  to  make  sure 
that  Golfin  was  following  him,  and  then  he  trotted 
on  again.  At  some  little  distance  from  the  house 
Golfin  heard  a  voice  saying : 

"  Well,  Choto,  what  is  it  you  want  ?" 


MARIANELA.  1 99 

He  suspected  at  once  that  it  was  Nela.  Hex 
paused  and  listened,  hidden  in  the  shadow  of  a 
beech-tree,  and  soon  perceived  a  little  figure 
standing  out  from  the  stone  wall  and  walking  very 
slowly.  The  shadows  of  the  brambles  prevented  his 
seeing  her  very  distinctly.  He  set  Out  to  follow 
her  at  some  little  distance,  quitting  the  path  and 
walking  on  the  turf,  so  as  to  make  no  noise.  Be- 
yond a  doubt  it  was  Nela.  He  recognized  her 
perfectly  when  they  got  upon  open  ground,  where 
there  were  no  dark  shadows  cast  by  trees  or  shrubs. 

The  girl  now  went  faster  and  faster ;  at  last  she 
began  to  run,  and  Golfin  ran  too.  After  this  un- 
equal race  had  gone  on  for  some  distance,  Nela 
sat  down  on  a  stone.  At  her  feet  was  the  sloping 
basin  of  La  Trascava,  black  and  hideous  in  the 
gloom.  Golfin  waited  a  moment ;  then  he  very 
softly  went  nearer  to  the  girl.  Choto  was  seated 
in  front  of  her,  squatted  on  his  hind  quarters,  with 
his  fore  paw  stretched  out,  and  gazing  at  her  with 
the  gravity  of  a  sphinx.  Nela  stared  into  the 
depths  below,  and  suddenly  starting  to  her  feet 
she  began  to  go  quickly  down  the  slope — slipping 
rather  than  runmng.  With  one  bound  Teodoro 
stood  by  the  abyss,  roaring  in  stentorian  tones : 
"Nela!  Nela!" 

He  looked  down,  but  could  see  nothing  in  the 


2OO  MARIANELA. 

dark  chasm  ;  he  could  hear  Choto  whining  as  he 
ran  round  and  round  the  ridge,  lower  and  lower 
in  spirals,  as  if  he  were  being  sucked  in  by  some 
eddy  in  the  dreadful  gulf.  Teodoro  thought  of 
going  down  himself  and  cautiously  took  a  step  or 
two ;  then  he  called  again,  and  a  voice  from  below 
answered:  "Sefior." 

"  Come  up  this  minute." 

No  answer. 

"Come  up,  I  say." 

Presently  he  could  just  see  the  child's  face  in 
the  lowest  visible  depths  of  the  horrible  chasm. 
Choto,  after  snuffing  at  the  opening,  came  up 
again,  round  and  round  the  basin  as  before ;  Nela 
too  was  climbing  up,  but  very  slowly.  Indeed, 
she  stopped,  and  repeated  feebly  :  "  Senor  ?  .  .  .  " 

"  I  tell  you  come  up.  What  are  you  doing 
here  ?" 

Nela  came  a  little  further. 

"  Come — quickly.  I  have  something  to  tell 
you." 

"  To  tell  me  ?" 

"Yes — something  I  must  tell  you  at  once." 

Nela  crawled  up;  but  Teodoro  did  not  feel 
sure  that  he  had  triumphed  till  he  had  seized  her 
hand  and  held  it  tightly  to  lead  her  away  with 
him. 


MARIANELA.  2OI 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

NELA    IS   TAMED. 

THEY  walked  on  a  short  distance  without 
speaking.  Teodoro  Golfin,  for  all  his  learning, 
wisdom,  and  eloquence,  felt  as  ignorant  and  as 
helpless  as  Nela,  and  less  disposed  for  speech  than 
usual.  She  followed  him  unresistingly,  and  he  ac- 
commodated his  steps  to  those  of  the  child- 
woman,  like  a  man  taking  a  boy  to  school.  At  a 
turn  in  the  road  where  three  enormous  white 
stones  stood  up,  weather-worn  till  they  looked  like 
bleached  skeletons,  the  doctor  sat  down,  and  plac- 
ing Nela  in  front  of  him,  as  if  she  were  on  her 
trial  for  some  grave  delinquency,  he  held  her  by 
both  hands  and  said  solemnly: 

"  What  were  you  going  to  do  there  ?" 

"  I  —  where  ?" 

"  Down  there.  You  know  very  well  what  I 
mean.  Answer  me  plainly,  as  you  would  answer 
your  confessor  or  your  father." 

"  I  have  no  father,"  replied  Nela  with  a  faintly 
mutinous  accent. 

"  That  is  true — but  suppose  me  to  be  your 


202  MARIANELA. 

father,  and  answer  me.     What  were  you  going  to 
do?" 

"  My  mother  is  down  there,"  she  answered 
dully. 

"Your  mother  is  dead.  Do  you  not  know 
that  dead  people  are  gone  to  another  world,  or 
altogether  away  ?" 

"  She  is  there,"  said  Nela  positively,  and  look- 
ing back  towards  the  spot  she  had  left. 

"  And  you  thought  you  would  go  to  her.  Is 
that  it  ?  That  is  to  say,  you  meant  to  kill  your- 
self." 

"  Yes,  Senor,  that  is  it." 

"  And  do  you  not  know  that  your  mother 
committed  a  great  sin  in  killing  herself,  and  you 
would  do  the  same  if  you  followed  her  example  ? 
Were  you  never  taught  that  ?" 

"I  do  not  think  anyone  ever  told  me  any- 
thing of  the  kind.  And  if  I  want  to  kill  myself, 
who  is  to  prevent  me  ?" 

"  But  you  yourself — without  being  told — 
cannot  you  feel  that  God  cannot  be  pleased  with 
us  for  getting  rid  of  our  lives  ?  Poor  child — left 
to  your  own  instincts  without  any  teaching,  or 
religion,  or  loving  and  disinterested  guidance!  — 
What  ideas  can  you  have  of  God,  of  a  future  life, 
of  death  ?  What  makes  you  fancy  your  mother 


MARIANELA.  2O3 

is  there  ?  Do  you  call  a  few  lifeless  bones  your 
mother !  Can  you  believe  that  she  is  still  alive, 
thinlzing  of  you  and  loving  you  down  in  that  pit  ? 
Did  no  one  ever  tell  you  that  when  once  our  souls 
have  left  our  bodies  they  never  return  to  them  again? 
Do  you  not  know  that  a  tomb,  a  grave,  whatever 
it  may  be,  never  contains  anything  but  dust  and 
foul  corruption  ?  What  do  you  think  God  is  like  ? 
Like  some  grand  and  solemn  man  who  sits  above 
us  with  his  arms  folded,  and  who  allows  us  to 
play  with  our  lives,  while,  in  His  place,  we  see 
some  sprite,  hobgoblin  or  fetich  of  our  fancy  ?• — 
Your  master,  Nela,  who  is  so  wise  and  good,  did 
he  never  talk  to  you  about  such  things?" 

"  Oh  !  yes  he  did.  —  But  it  is  of  no  use  to  tell 
me  them  now.  ..." 

"  Of  no  use  now — when  you  want  to  kill 
yourself?  TeU  me,  silly  child,  did  you  think  that 
by  throwing  yourself  into  that  hole  you  would  be 
any  better  off?" 

"  Yes,  Senor." 

"  In  what  way  ?" 

"I  should  feel  none  of  the  things*!  feel  now, 
but  something  else,  much  better — and  I  should  be 
with  my  mother." 

"  I  see  you  are  more  silly  than  wicked,"  said 


2O4  MARIANELA. 

Golfin  laughing.  "  Now,  be  quite  honest  with  me. 
Do  you  owe  me  any  grudge  ?" 

"No  indeed.  I  owe  no  one  any  grudge  — 
least  of  all  you,  Senor,  who  have  been  so  kind  to 
me,  and  have  made  my  master  see." 

"Very  good — but  that  is  not  all;  I  not  only 
want  you  to  like  me,  but  you  must  trust  me  and 
tell  me  all  your  little  secrets.  Strange  little  secrets 
are  hidden  in  your  mind,  little  woman,  and  you 
must  tell  them  all  to  me — every  one.  You  will 
see,  I  shall  not  be  hard  upon  you ;  I  shall  make  a 
very  kind  father  confessor." 

Nela  smiled  a  forlorn  smile ;  then  bending  her 
head,  she  fell  on  her  knees. 

"  No,  silly  child,  that  is  not  the  way ;  sit  down 
by  me — come  here,"  said  Golfin,  gently  drawing 
her  to  a  seat  by  his  side.  "  I  fancy  you  were  go- 
ing crazy  for  want  of  some  one  to  whom  you 
could  tell  everything  ;  is  it  not  so  ?  And  you  are 
to  conceal  nothing.  You  are  indeed  alone  in  the 
world,  poor  child. — Come,  Nela,  let  us  see;  tell 
me  first  of  all  why — now  be  very  attentive  —  why 
you  took  it  into  your  head  that  you  wanted  to  kill 
yourself?" 

Nela  did  not  answer. 

"  I  saw  you  happy  enough,  and  content  with 
life  to  all  appearance,  only  a  few  days  since. 


MARIANELA.  2O5 

Why  have  you  suddenly  gone  mad  in  a  single 
night  ?" 

"  I  want  to  go  to  my  mother — "  replied  Nela, 
after  hesitating  a  moment.  "  I  do  not  want  to  live 
any  longer.  Of  what  good  am  I  in  the  world  ? 
Is  it  not  much  better  that  I  should  die  ?  And  if 
God  will  not  make  me  die,  I  will  kill  myself,  my 
own  way." 

"  This  notion  that  you  are  of  no  use  is  at  the 
bottom  of  all  your  miseries,  poor  little  creature  ! 
Curses  on  him  —  or  on  them,  for  they  are  many 
—  who  ever  put  it  into  your  head.  They  are  all 
equally  responsible  for  the  neglect,  the  isolation, 
and  the  ignorance  in  which  you  lived.  You  are 
of  no  use  !  God  knows  what  you  might  have  been 
if  you  had  fallen  into  other  hands  !  A  refined 
nature  is  yours,  perhaps  an  exquisitely  superior 
one.  —  But  good  Heavens  !  If  you  put  a  harp 
into  clumsy  hands  what  can  they  do  with  it  but 
break  it.  —  Because  your  fragile  frame  is  not 
strong  enough  to  break  stones  and  carry  earth  like 
those  brutes  in  human  form  Mariuca  and  Pepina, 
who  shall  say  that  you  are  of  no  use  ?  Were  we 
all  born  to  toil  like  mere  animals  ?  Are  you  to 
be  forbidden  to  have  any  intelligence,  any  feeling, 
any  of  the  gifts  of  nature  which  no  one  has  ever 
cultivated  in  you  ?  Nonsense !  You  are  of  some 


2O6  MARIANELA. 

use ;  you  might  be  of  great  good  if  you  only  fell 
into  hands  that  could  mould  you  and  train  you." 

Nela,  whose  intuition  gathered  the  purport  of 
this  speech,  though  the  words  were  beyond  her, 
was  deeply  impressed.  She  kept  her  eyes  fixed 
on  Teodoro  Golfin's  rugged,  shrewd,  and  expres- 
sive countenance.  Her  heart  was  full  of  astonish- 
ment and  gratitude. 

"  Still  there  is  a  mystery  about  you,"  the 
dusky,  leonine  doctor  went  on  :  "The  most  per- 
fect opportunity  was  offered  you  to  escape  from 
your  miserable  lot,  and  you  refused  it.  Florentina, 
who  is  an  angel  if  ever  there  was  one,  was  ready 
to  adopt  you  as  a  friend  and  a  sister;  I  never  knew 
an  instance  of  greater  kindness  and  generosity.  — 
And  what  have  you  done  ?  Fled  from  her  like  a 
wild  thing. — This  is  sheer  ingratitude — or  some 
other  feeling  which  I  cannot  at  all  compre- 
hend." 

"No,  no,  no,"  cried  Nela,  much  distressed,  "I 
am  not  ungrateful.  I  adore  Senorita  Florentina  ; 
she  seems  to  me  not  to  be  made  of  flesh  and 
blood  like  the  rest  of  us ;  I  do  not  deserve  even 
to  look  upon  her.  ..." 

"  Well,  my  child,  you  may  mean  what  you  say; 
but  from  your  behavior  we  can  only  conclude  that 
you  are  ungrateful — most  ungrateful.  ..." 


MARIANELA.  2O/ 

"  No,  no,"  sobbed  Nela.  "  I  am  not,  indeed 
I  am  not  ungrateful.  I  was  afraid  —  I  knew — 
that  you  would  all  think  me  ungrateful,  and  that 
was  the  only  thing  that  troubled  me  when  I  was 
going  to  kill  myself. — But  I  am  so  stupid;  I  did 
not  know  how  to  ask  pardon  of  the  Senorita  be- 
fore I  ran  away,  nor  how  to  explain  it  all." 

"  I  will  make  your  peace  with  Florentina ;  and 
even  if  you  wish  never  to  see  her  again,  I  will  un- 
dertake to  tell  her  and  convince  her  that  you  were 
not  ungrateful.  Now,  open  your  heart  to  me  and 
tell  me  everything;  what  makes  you  so  miserable 
and  desperate  ?  However  wretched  a  human  be- 
ing may  be — however  great  his  misery  and  lone- 
liness, he  does  not  take  his  own  life  unless  he  has 
some  overpowering  reason  for  hating  it." 

"No,  Senor — so  it  seems  to  me." 

"  Then  you  hate  your  life  ?" 

Nela  was  silent  for  a  minute.  Then,  crossing 
her  arms,  she  exclaimed  vehemently. 

"No — no.  I  do  not  hate  it;  on  the  contrary, 
I  want  to  find  it !" 

"  A  pretty  way  you  were  going  to  work  to 
look  for  it !" 

"  I  thought  that  when  you  were  dead  you 
would  have  everything  you  could  not  get  here.  If 
not,  why  is  death  always,  always  calling  us  to 


208  MARIANELA. 

come  ?  I  have  dreams,  and  when  I  dream  I  see 
all  who  are  dead  happy  and  at  peace." 

"  You  believe  in  dreams  ?" 

"  Yes,  Senor.  —  I  look  at  the  trees  and  the 
rocks  that  I  have  seen  here  ever  since  I  was  born, 
and  in  their  face.  ..." 

"Come,  come — the  trees  and  rocks  have 
faces  ?" 

"Yes — everything  that  is  lovely  can  see  and 
speak.  —  And  they  say  to  me  :  '  Come  to  us — die, 
and  you  will  live  quite  happy.' ' 

"  What  a  lamentable  fancy  !"  Golfin  muttered 
to  himself.  "  A  perfectly  pagan  spirit !" 

And  he  added  aloud  : 

"  But  if  you  want  to  live,  why  did  you  not  ac- 
cept Florentina's  offer  ?  I  come  back  to  the  same 
question." 

"  Because — because — what  the  Senorita  of- 
fered me  was  worse  than  death !"  cried  Nela 
vehemently. 

"  How  unjustly  you  think  of  her  kind  charity. 
There  are,  of  course,  beings  so  wretched  that  they 
prefer  a  low  and  vagabond  existence  to  the  dignity 
of  a  superior  position.  You  are  accustomed  to  a 
free  life  in  direct  contact  with  nature,  and  you 
prefer  this  debased  freedom  to  the  sweet  affections 


MARIANELA.  2O9 

of  home  life.  Have  you  been  so  happy  then  in 
this  mode  of  life  ?" 

"  I  was  beginning  to  be  happy.  ..." 

"  And  when  did  you  cease  to  be  happy  ?" 
After  a  long  pause,  Nela  replied  : 

"  When  you  came  here." 

"I  —  what  harm  have  I  done  you  ?" 

"  None,  none — nothing  but  the  greatest 
good." 

"  I  have  given  your  master  his  sight,"  said 
Golfin,  looking  at  Nela's  face  with  the  narrow  at- 
tention of  a  physiologist.  "  Do  you  not  thank  me 
for  that  ?" 

"  Much,  Senor,  very  much,"  and  she  gazed  up 
at  him  with  eyes  full  of  tears. 

Golfin  watched  her  closely,  so  as  not  to  miss 
the  slightest  change  of  expression  which  might 
guide  him  to  a  comprehension  of  the  girl's  feel- 
ings, as  he  went  on : 

"Your  master  told  me  that  he  loved  you 
dearly,  when  he  was  blind  ;  and  now  that  he  can 
see,  he  constantly  asks  for  Nela.  He  knows  very 
well  that  for  him  the  whole  outer  world  was  filled 
by  one  person  —  Nela ;  and  the  sight  which  has 
been  mercifully  bestowed  on  him  is  of  no  value  to 
him,  unless  he  can  use  it  to  see  Nela." 

"To  see  Nela — but  he  never  shall  see  Nela — 


2IO  MARIANELA. 

Nela  will  never  let  him  see  her !"  she  exclaimed 
excitedly. 

"  Why  not  ?" 

"  Because  she  is  so  ugly. — He  may  have  cared 
for  Maria  Canela  when  his  eyes  were  shut ;  but 
now  that  they  are  open  and  he  can  see  the 
Senorita,  he  can  never,  never  care  for  a  poor  little 
dwarf." 

"  Who  knows  but.  ..." 

"  It  is  impossible,"  she  said  positively. 

"  It  is  your  fancy — you  cannot  tell  whether 
your  master  will  be  pleased  with  you  or  not  till 
you  try.  I  will  take  you  to  the  house." 

"I  will  not  go — I  cannot  go!"  she  cried,  start- 
ing to  her  feet  and  standing  in  front  of  Teodoro, 
who  was  utterly  astounded  at  the  determination  of 
her  gesture  and  the  flash  of  her  black  eyes,  which 
both  revealed  her  resolute  nature. 

"  Be  calm,  be  easy  —  come  here,"  he  said  per- 
suasively. "  It  is  true  that  you  are  not  very  pretty 
— but  a  sensible  man  does  not  think  so  much  as 
you  fancy  of  mere  outside  beauty.  You  are  too 
self-conscious,  little  woman." 

But  Nela,  paying  no  sort  of  heed  to  the  doc- 
tor's moralities,  and  as  resolute  in  her  attitude  as 
she  was  in  her  opinion,  gravely  went  on  as  if  pro- 
nouncing sentence : 


MARIANELA.  211 

"There  ought  to  be  nothing  ugly  in  the 
world.  —  Nothing  that  is  ugly  ought  to  be  allowed 
to  live." 

"  But,  my  child,  if  all  we  ugly  people  were  to  be 
obliged  to  take  ourselves  out  of  the  world,  it  would 
be  left  almost  depopulated.  Poor,  unhappy,  little 
simpleton  !  But  this  notion  of  yours  is  not  a  new 
one.  Other  persons  had  it  before  you,  centuries 
ago ;  persons  with  an  imagination  like  yours  — 
living,  as  you  have  lived,  in  the  midst  of  Nature, 
and  lacking  the  light  which  your  ignorance  and 
loneliness  have  deprived  you  of,  and  which  they 
had  not,  because  it  had  not  then  dawned  on  the 
world.  — 3  But  you  must  be  cured  of  this  delusion  ; 
you  must  reflect  that  you  have  your  portion  of 
gifts  more  precious  than  beauty — gifts  of  the  mind, 
which  neither  fade  with  time,  nor  change  with  the 
caprices  of  taste.  Seek  for  them  in  your  soul  and 
you  will  find  them.  They  will  not  perish  as  beauty  f 
would  which,  seek  it  as  you  may  in  your  looking- 
glass,  you  will  never  find.  But  seek  out  these 
really  good  and  precious  gifts;  cultivate  them,  and 
when  you  see  them  thriving  and  blooming,  all  this 
misery  you  are  suffering  will  vanish  —  take  my 
word  for  it.  And  meanwhile  you  will  soon  rise 
superior  to  the  wretched  situation  in  which  you 
now  are,  and  acquire  a  beauty  which  may  not  per- 


212  MARIANELA. 

haps  charm  the  eye,  but  which  will  be  a  source  of 
pride  and  happiness  to  yourself." 

This  wise  advice  was  either  not  heard  or  not 
heeded  by  Nela;  she  sat  down  again  by  Golfin  and 
gazed  fixedly  in  his  face.  Her  small  eyes,  more 
eloquent  just  then  than  the  finest  could  have  been, 
seemed  to  say : 

"  And  what  is  the  upshot  of  all  these  fine 
speeches,  learned  Sir  ?" 

"  Now  you  see,"  Golfin  went  on,  warming  to 
his  subject,  and  giving  it,  in  spite  of  himself,  the 
character  of  a  psychological  lecture  —  there  is  one 
important  question,  and  that  is.  ..." 

But  Nela  had  guessed  it,  and  covered  her  face 
with  her  hands. 

"  There  is  nothing  strange  in  it  —  on  the  con- 
trary, it  is  the  most  natural  thing  that  could  hap- 
pen to  you.  You  have  a  sensitive  temperament 
and  an  excitable  imagination.  You  and  your 
master  had  led  a  life  together  of  free  and  poetic 
communion  with  nature,  and  of  most  perfect  and 
innocent  intimacy.  He  is  as  wise  and  clever  as  a 
man  can  be,  and  as  handsome  as  a  statue.  His 
beauty,  when  blind  even,  seemed  formed  to  delight 
the  eyes  of  those  who  could  see.  His  kindness  of 
heart  too,  and  generous  spirit  are  enough  to  charm 
and  win  the  love  of  any  woman.  It  is  not  strange 


MARIANELA.  213 

that  they  should  have  captivated  you  —  a  child  so 
womanly  —  or  a  woman  looking  so  like  a  child. — 
Do  you  love  him  so  much  ?  More  than  anything 
else  in  the  world  ?" 

"  Yes,  yes — Senor,"  the  girl  sobbed  out. 

"  And  you  cannot  bear  the  idea  of  his  ceasing 
to  love  you  ?" 

"No  — Senor." 

"  And  he  used  to  say  loving  words  to  you  and 
make  you  promises  ?...." 

"  Yes,  oh  yes,  Senor.  He  told  me  I  should  be 
his  companion  as  long  as  he  lived  —  and  —  and  I 
believed  him." 

"  And  why  should  you  not  ?" 

"  He  said  he  could  not  live  without  me,  and 
that  even  if  he  ever  could  see  he  would  still  love 
me.  I  was  quite  happy ;  I  was  ugly,  and  little, 
and  ill- made,  but  I  did  not  care,  for  he  could  not 
see  me ;  and  in  his  darkness  he  thought  I  was 
pretty.  —  And  then.  ..." 

"Then,"  said  Golfin  gently,  for  he  was  filled 
with  pity.  "  I  see  the  fault  is  all  mine." 

"  Fault,  no  ;  for  you  did  a  good  deed.  You  are 
very,  very  good.  It  is  good  to  have  given  him 
his  sight.  I  know,  I  tell  myself,  that  it  is  good  ; 
but  after  that  I  must  go  away,  quite  away — for  he 
will  see  Senorita  Florentina  and  will  compare  me 


214  MARIANELA. 

with  her — and  Senorita  Florentina  is  as  pretty  as 
the  angels,  and  I  —  it  is  like  comparing  a  piece  of 
broken  glass  with  the  sun  !  Of  what  good  can  I 
be  ?  I  dreamed  that  I  ought  never  to  have  been 
born  !  Oh  why  was  I  ever  born  ?  God  made  a 
mistake;  he  gave  me  an  ugly  face,  and  a  miserable 
little  body,  and  such  a  large  heart !  But  of  what 
use  to  me  is  a  large  heart  ?  —  It  is  a  torment  and 
nothing  else.  Woe  is  me !  If  I  did  not  keep  it 
under,  it  would  hate  and  detest  a  great  many  peo- 
ple. And  yet  I  do  not  want  to  hate  people  —  I 
do  not  know  how  to  hate  them,  and  I  would  rather 
bury  my  miserable  heart  than  live  to  learn  to  hate ; 
bury  it,  so  that  it  should  not  torment  me  any 
more." 

"  You  are  tormented  by  jealousy,  and  by  your 
sense  of  humiliation.  Poor  little  one,  you  are  in- 
deed alone  !  Neither  the  knowledge  you  lack,  nor 
the  home  you  have  never  had,  nor  the  work  you 
cannot  do  would  avail  to  save  you  from  this.  But 
tell  me,  what  do  you  feel  about  the  protection  and 
kindness  that  Florentina  offers  you  ?" 

"Terror!  Shame!"  exclaimed  Nela,  opening 
her  eyes  wide  in  horror.  "To  live  with  them — 
to  see  them  constantly!  —  For  they  will  marry — 
my  heart  tells  me  they  will  marry ;  I  dreamed  it, 
I  know  it." 


MARIANELA.  21$ 

"  But  Florentina  is  very  kind ;  she  will  love 
you  dearly." 

"Yes,  and  I  love  her — but  not  at  Aldea- 
corba  !"  cried  the  girl  in  wild  accents.  "  She  came 
to  rob  me  of  what  was  mine — for  he  was  mine 
— yes,  Senor,  he  was  indeed.  Florentina  is  like 
the  Blessed  Virgin  —  I  will  pray  to  her,  yes, 
Senor,  and  worship  her;  but  I  do  not  want 
her  to  take  away  what  is  my  own — and  she 
will  take  it  away — she  has  taken  it  away  al- 
ready !  And  where  am  I  to  go  to ;  what  am  I, 
what  good  am  I  in  the  world  at  all  ?  I  have  lost 
everything  and  I  want  to  go  to  my  mother." 

She  walked  away ;  but  Golfin  seized  her  as  a 
wild  beast  clutches  its  prey,  and  held  her  tightly 
by  the  wrist.  As  he  did  so  he  felt  her  quick  and 
fluttering  pulse. 

.  "  Come  here,"  he  said.  "  From  this  moment, 
whether  you  like  it  or  no,  you  are  my  slave.  You 
are  mine,  and  you  are  to  do  "nothing  but  what  I 
tell  you.  Poor  little  soul,  full  of  eager  feeling,  of 
fervent  fancy,  frankness  and  superstition — you 
have  a  nature  framed  for  all  that  is  good ;  but  it 
has  been  ruined  by  the  wild  life  you  have  led,  by 
neglect  and  want  of  training,  and  even  the  most 
elementary  teaching !  What  a  hideous  state  of 
society  we  live  in,  which  forgets  its  duties  so  ut- 


2l6  MARIANELA. 

terly,  and  leaves  a  precious  creature  like  this  per- 
ish!—  Come  here;  I  am  not  going  to  let  you  quit 
my  side.  I  have  hunted  you  down  and  caught 
you — caught  you  in  a  trap  in  the  midst  of  the 
woods,  in  some  sylvan  wilderness,  and  now  I  shall 
try  to  teach  you  and  train  you.  We  will  see  if  this 
rough  diamond  cannot  be  cut  and  polished.  Ah  ! 
you  do  not  even  know  how  ignorant  you  are;  and 
I  shall  open  a  new  world  to  your  mind,  show  you  a 
thousand  wonderful  things  that  you  have  never  un- 
derstood, though  you  have  a  vague  and  dim  idea  of 
some  of  them.  Tell  me,  cannot  you  feel  in  your  soul 
a  germ — how  shall  I  explain  myself?  a  bud,  of  that 
rarest  and  most  beautiful  grace  :  Humility  ?  The 
mother  of  all  the  virtues ;  which,  strange  to  say, 
makes  us  actually  happy  when*  we  see  ourselves 
subordinate  to  others  ?  Have  you  never  felt  the 
impulse  of  self-denial,  which  makes  us  rejoice  in 
sacrificing  ourselves  for  others,  in  making  ourselves 
small  that  some  one  else  may  become  great  ? — But 
you  will  learn  this,  child  ;  you  will  learn  to  lay  your 
ugliness  at  the  feet  of  beauty,  to  look  on  with  calm 
satisfaction  and  joy  at  the  triumphs  of  others,  to 
fetter  that  great  wild  heart  of  yours  and  bring  it 
into  subjection,  so  that  you  shall  never  feel  envy  nor 
rage,  but  will  love  your  neighbor  as  yourself,  and 
rise  superior  to  all  who  may  have  injured  or  hurt 


MARIANELA. 


you.  You  shall  be  made  all  that  Nature  meant  you 
to  be  when  she  endowed  you  at  your  birth.  Hap- 
less child  !  Born  in  a  Christian  country,  and  not 
even  a  Christian  !  Your  soul  dwells  in  a  sort  of 
poetic  worship  of  nature.  —  You  cannot  understand 
me,  little  one,  but  so  it  is.  You  are  in  the  state  of 
those  primitive  peoples  of  whom  the  memory 
even  hardly  survives  —  governed  by  your  instincts 
and  passions,  while  beauty  is  your  dearest  idol. 
Eighteen  centuries  have  been  devoted  in  vain  to 
spiritualizing  humanity,  so  far  as  you  are  con- 
cerned. And  as  to  the  selfish  world  which  has 
left  you  to  such  a  fate  !  —  What  name  does  it  de- 
serve ?  You  have  lived  in  these  mines,  a  solitary 
soul,  not  taught  a  single  letter,  not  even  sent  to  an 
infant  school,  though  you  would  have  learnt  little 
enough  there  ;  not  even  given  the  most  imperfect 
teaching  in  that  religion  of  which  your  nation 
boasts.  Why,  you  have  never  been  inside  a 
church  except  to  stare  at  some  ceremony  which  to 
you  had  no  meaning;  you  cannot  even  mutter  a 
prayer  that  you  understand  ;  you  know  nothing  of 
the  world,  or  of  God,  or  your  own  soul.  .  .  . 

"  But  you  shall  know  all  this  ;  you  shall  be  a 
different  creature.  You  shall  no  longer  be  hapless 
little  Nela,  but  a  good,  and  honest,  and  useful 
woman." 


218  MARIANELA. 

It  would  be  rash  to  assert  that  Nela  had  un- 
derstood all  this  speech,  which  Golfin  declaimed 
with  such  vehemence  and  fervor  that  he  entirely 
forgot  the  person  to  whom  he  was  speaking.  But 
the  little  outcast  felt  a  curious  fascination,  and  the 
spirit  of  her  friend's  utterances  sank  gently  into 
her  soul,  and  soothed  it,  and  compelled  her  to 
blind  assent.  His  power  over  the  untaught  girl 
was  that  fateful  and  irresistible  control  which  a 
superior  mind  exercises  over  an  inferior  one.  Sad 
but  unresisting,  her  head  drooped  against  the  sur- 
geon's shoulder. 

"  Come  along,"  Golfin  said  resolutely. 

Nela  trembled  from  head  to  foot ;  a  cold  sweat 
stood  on  her  face,  and  Golfin  felt  that  her  hands 
were  icy-cold,  and  her  pulses  beating  violently ; 
but  he  failed  to  attribute  this  physical  condition  to 
her  mental  anguish  ;  he  held  her  hand  more  firmly 
and  repeated  :  "  Come — it  is  cold  here." 

His  power  over  her  was  so  great  that  she  rose 
as  he  did,  and  they  went  a  little  way  together. 
But  then  Nela  stopped,  and  fell  on  her  knees. 

"Oh,  Senor  !"  she  cried  in  an  agony:  "  Do  not 
take  me  away  with  you." 

She  was  very  pale,  and  looked  wrecked  by 
physical  and  mental  misery.  Golfin  tried  to  pull 
her  up;  but  her  helpless  frame  did  not  stir  by  any 


MARIANELA.  219 

strength  of  her  own.  It  was  clear  she  must  be 
carried  like  a  senseless  corpse. 

"  One  day,"  said  Golfin,  "  not  very  long  since, 
almost  in  this  very  place,  I  took  you  on  my  shoul- 
ders to  carry  you.  Now  I  must  do  the  same  it 
seems." 

He  lifted  her  in  his  arms;  her  hot  breath 
seemed  to  burn  his  face.  She  was  drooping,  fad- 
ing, dying  like  a  plant  torn  up  from  the  soil,  and 
with  its  roots  laid  bare. 

As  they  got  nearer  to  Aldeacorba,  Golfin  felt 
some  life  returning  to  the  dead  weight  in  his  arms. 
Nela  raised  her  head,  and  threw  up  her  hands  in 
despair,  but  she  said  nothing. 

They  went  in  ;  all  was  silent.  A  maid  servant 
came  to  meet  them,  and  by  Teodoro's  desire  she 
conducted  him  noiselessly  to  Florentina's  room. 

Florentina  was  alone.  By  the  light  of  a  fast- 
dying  lamp  she  was  kneeling  on  the  floor,  her  el- 
bows resting  on  the  seat  of  a  chair,  and  praying 
with  absorbed  devotion.  She  was  startled  at  see- 
ing a  man  at  her  door  at  so  late  an  hour,  but  her 
alarm  at  once  gave  way  to  surprise,  when  she  saw 
the  burden  Golfin  bore  in  his  strong  arms. 

Her  astonishment  was  too  great  for  speech 
when  the  doctor,  carefully  depositing  his  load  on 
a  sofa,  said : 


22O  MARIANELA. 

"I  have  caught  her  you  see. — What  do  you 
say  to  that  ?     Am  I  a  good  butterfly  hunter  ?" 


CHAPTER  XX. 

A    NEW    WORLD. 

WE  must  now  go  back  a  few  days. 

When  Teodoro  Golfin  first  removed  the  band- 
age for  a  few  moments  from  Pablo  Penaguilas* 
eyes,  the  boy  uttered  a  cry  of  terror.  Every  im- 
pulse made  him  shrink  from  all  he  saw ;  he  put 
out  his  hands  as  though  by  pushing  away  one  ob- 
ject he  could  get  away  farther  from  the  rest. 
Luminous  space  was  to  him  like  a  vast  void  into 
which  he  felt  as  if  he  must  fall ;  and  the  instinct  of 
self-preservation  made  him  close  his  eyes  to  feel 
himself  safe.  However,  his  father,  the  surgeon, 
and  the  rest  of  them,  persuaded  him  to  try  once 
more,  for  all  were  equally  anxious ;  he  looked 
again,  but  his  terror  was  no  less.  The  images  of 
all  he  saw,  rushed  into  his  brain  with  such  sudden 
violence  and  confusion — with  a  sort  of  storm  and 
assault,  as  it  were — that  he  felt  as  if  they  were 
falling  upon  him  bodily.  The  distant  mountains 
seemed  to  lie  within  reach,  and  the  persons  and 


MARIANELA.  221 

objects  that  were  near  him  seemed,  literally,  to 
strike  his  eyes. 

Golfjn  noted  these  phenomena  with  the  most 
eager  interest ;  this  was  the  second  case  of  cure  of 
congenital  blindness  which  he  had  had  the  oppor- 
tunity of  studying.  The  others  hardly  dared  to 
be  glad ;  they  were  so  bewildered  and  alarmed  by 
the  agitating  effects  produced  on  the  patient  by 
the  first  exercise  of  the  function  of  sight.  To 
Pablo  himself  it  was  a  series  of  delightful  experi- 
ments. His  nerves  and  his  imagination  were  so 
seriously  excited  the  surgeon  thought  it  prudent 
to  compel  him  to  rest. 

"Now,"  he  said,  smiling,  "you  have  seen 
enough  for  to-day.  You  cannot  step  out  of  dark- 
ness into  light,  into  the  wide  domain  of  the  sun, 
as  you  would  walk  into  a  theatre.  This  is  a  new 
birth,  with  pain  as  well  as  joy  in  it." 

Presently  the  young  fellow  was  so  eager  to  try 
his  newly-found  power  once  more,  that  Golfin 
consented  to  open  a  crack,  as  it  were,  upon  the 
outer  world. 

"  My  whole  mind,"  said  Pablo,  trying  to  ex- 
plain his  first  impressions,  "  seems  bathed  in 
beauty — a  beauty  I  had  never  dreamed  of  before. 
What  were  the  things  which  rushed  in  upon  me 
and  filled  me  with  terror  ?  It  was  the  sense  of 


222  MARIANELA. 

size,  of  space,  which  I  had  never  before  conceived 
of  but  in  a  very  imperfect  manner,  and  which 
dawned  upon  me  clear  and  terrible  ;  as  if  I  were 
being  dragged  up  to  the  highest  mountains  and 
down  to  the  deepest  abyss.  It  is  all  grand  and 
beautiful,  but  it  makes  me  tremble.  But  I  want  to 
feel  it  all  once  more.  All  the  glory  and  loveliness 
that  I  gazed  at  has  made  me  feel  bewildered  and 
humbled  ;  it  was  like  some  serene  and  majestic 
presence  bending  down  to  meet  me.  The  whole 
universe  seemed  to  be  rushing  towards  me  and  I 
was  startled  and  terror  stricken — the  sky  looked 
like  a  vast  space,  watching,  listening — I  cannot 
put  it  into  words.  —  It  was  vacancy,  but  strangely 
full  of  expression.  All  that  landscape  of  sky  and 
mountains  looked  at  me,  came  down  upon  me — 
but  it  was  all  so  cold,  and  grand,  and  stern.  Let 
me  see  something  delicate,  something  gentle  and 
lovable — Nela  !  Where  is  Nela  ?" 

Golfin  once  more  relieved  him  of  the  bandage, 
and  giving  him  a  pair  of  suitable  spectacles,  he  left 
him  free  to  look  about  him. 

"  Oh  !  is  that  Nela !  Merciful  Heaven  !"  ex- 
claimed Pablo  enchanted. 

"This  is  your  cousin  Florentina." 

"Ah!"  said  the  lad,  coloring  with  confusion. 
"  That  is  my  cousin.  I  had  no  idea  any  person 


MARIANELA.  223 

could  be  so  beautiful.  —  Oh  !  thank  God  for  giving 
me  the  faculty  which  enables  me  to  see  anything 
so  lovely.  Cousin  Florentina,  you  are  like  the 
most  lovely  music — like  the  most  perfect  embodi- 
ment of  some  delicious  harmony.  —  And  Nela, 
where  is  she  ?" 

"You  will  have  time  enough  to  see  her,"  said 
Don  Francisco  delighted.  "  Try  now  to  be 
calm." 

"  Florentina,  Florentina  !"  repeated  Pablo  ex- 
citedly. "  What  is  it  in  your  face  that  makes  me 
feel  as  if  the  spirit  of  God  himself  was  shining 
through  it  ?  You  stand  in  the  midst  of  a  glory 
which  must,  to  be  sure,  be  the  sun.  Beams,  rays 
seem  to  shine  from  your  face. — Ah!  at  last  I 
know  what  the  angels  are  like — and  your  dress, 
your  hands,  your  hair,  seem  to  fill  me  with  some 
new  and  strange  sensation.  What  is  it  ?" 

"  He  is  beginning  to  see  color,"  muttered  Gol- 
fin  to  himself.  "  He  perhaps  perceives  every  ob- 
ject surrounded  by  the  colors  of  the  spectrum. 
But  he  cannot  estimate  degrees  of  distance." 

"  I  seem  to  have  you  inside  my  eyes,"  Pablo 
went  on.  "  You  seem  to  have  become  part  of  my 
thoughts,  and  the  sight  of  you  comes  upon  me  like 
a  memory ;  but  a  memory  of  what  ?  I  never  saw 
any  thing  or  any  body  before.  Can  I  have  lived 


224  MARIANELA. 

before  I  came  into  this  world  ?  I  know  not — but 
I  knew  your  eyes.  And  you,  father — where  are 
you  ?  I  have  seen  you — yes  I  have  pictured  you 
too — you  are  just  what  I  have  loved.  And  now 
my  uncle?  You  are  very  much  alike. — And 
where,  where  is  that  dear  good  Golfin? — bless 
him !" 

"  Here,  minding  my  patient,"  said  the  surgeon 
coming  forward.  "  Here  I  am  as  ugly  as  sin. — As 
you  have  never  seen  a  lion  or  a  Newfoundland 
dog,  you  can  have  no  idea  of  my  style  of  beauty. 
They  say  I  am  exactly  like  those  two  noble 
beasts." 

"All  good  kind  souls !...."  said  Pablo. 
"  But  my  cousin  is  the  prettiest — oh !  infinitely 
the  prettiest.  But  Nela,  for  pity's  sake,  where  is 
Nela  ?" 

They  told  him  that  his  lazarillo  never  came 
to  the  house,  and  that  they  had  been  too  busy  to 
go  to  look  for  her,  and  he  was  extremely  dis- 
tressed at  this  intelligence.  They  succeeded  in 
soothing  him,  and  as  they  feared  he  might  become 
feverish,  they  persuaded  him  to  go  to  bed  and  try 
to  sleep. 

The  next  day  he  was  in  a  state  of  great  pros- 
tration, but  his  vigorous  nature  triumphed  over 
everything.  He  begged  to  have  a  glass  of  water 


MARIANELA.  225 

and  when  he  saw  it,  he  exclaimed :  "  I  feel  as  I 
were  drinking  at  the  mere  sight  of  water." 

His  expressions  were  equally  vivid  and  pictu- 
resque about  everything  he  saw  which  struck  his 
fancy  strongly.  After  correcting  the  defective 
sphericity  of  the  eye  by  means  of  glasses,  which 
he  tried  one  after  another,  Golfm  began  to  direct 
his  attention  to  the  differences  and  combinations 
of  colors,  and  the  young  man's  sound  mind  and 
taste  never  failed  in  distinguishing  the  ugly  from  the 
beautiful.  Indeed,  he  felt  these  two  attributes  as 
two  absolute  and  distinct  ideas,  without  connect- 
ing them  in  any  way  with  any  notion  of  utility  or, 
on  the  other  hand,  of  goodness.  A  butterfly 
which  flew  by  accident  into  his  room  enchanted 
him,  but  an  ink-bottle  he  thought  simply  horrible, 
though  his  father  explained  to  him  that  it  could 
not  be  otherwise,  since  its  use  was  to  hold  ink  to 
write  with.  When  he  was  shown  two  prints,  one 
of  the  Crucifixion,  and  one  of  Galatea  riding  in  a 
shell  and  escorted  by  Tritons  and  Nymphs,  he 
preferred  the  second — which  was  a  great  scandal 
to  Florentina,  who  promised  herself  that  she  would 
teach  him  to  hold  sacred  things  far  above  every- 
thing profane.  He  watched  their  faces  with  the 
keenest  attention,  and  the  wonderful  coincidence 
of  facial  expression  with  language  astonished  him 

15 


226  MARIANELA. 

excessively.  When  he  saw  the  maids  and  other 
women  about  the  place,  he  was  greatly  annoyed  if 
they  were  ugly  or  commonplace;  indeed,  his 
cousin's  beauty  made  him  indifferent  to  any  other 
woman.  In  spite  of  this  he  wanted  to  see  them 
all ;  his  curiosity  was  like  a  raging  thirst  which 
nothing  could  satisfy.  Every  day  he  was  disap- 
pointed at  never  seeing  Nela;  but  he  was  so  fond 
of  Florentina  that  he  could  not  bear  her  to  leave 
him  for  a  moment. 

On  the  third  day  Golfin  said  to  him  :  "  You 
have  now  made  acquaintance  with  a  great  many 
things — the  marvels  of  this  visible  world.  Now 
— you  must  see  yourself." 

He  brought  a  mirror,  and  Pablo  looked  in  it. 

"  That  is  I  !"  he  exclaimed  with  simple  ad- 
miration. "  It  is  difficult  to  believe  it.  How  have 
I  come  inside  that  hard  still  sheet  of  water  ?  What 
a  wonderful  thing  glass  is!  It  seems  as  if  it  could 
not  be  true  that  men  made  that  stony  atmosphere. 
—  My  word!  but  I  am  not  an  ugly  fellow!  — 
What  do  you  say  cousin  ?  And  you,  when  you 
look  in  this,  do  you  see  yourself  as  pretty  as  you 
are  ?  No,  impossible.  Look  up  into  the  sky  and 
you  will  find  your  image  there.  You  may  believe 
you  see  an  angel  when  you  only  look  at  your- 
self!" 


MARIANELA.  22/ 

That  evening,  when  he  was  alone  with  her  and 
she  was  giving  him  some  little  help  he  needed 
as  an  invalid,  Pablo  said  to  her : 

"  Cousin,  my  father  read  me,  I  remember,  a 
passage  in  history  about  Christopher  Columbus 
who  discovered  a  New  World,  which  no  European 
had  ever  seen  before.  That  navigator  opened  the 
eyes  of  the  Old  World,  so  that  they  saw  another 
and  more  beautiful  one.  I  cannot  help  thinking 
of  him  as  a  man  like  Teodoro  Golfin,  and  of 
Europe  as  a  blind  man  to  whom  America  and  its 
wonders  were  like  a  revelation  of  light.  Well,  and 
I  have  seen  a  New  World. — You  are  my  America, 
you  are  that  first  and  lovely  island  where  Colum- 
bus set  foot  on  land.  He  never  saw  the  continent, 
with  its  vast  forests  and  immense  rivers,  and  I  too 
perhaps  have  not  yet  seen  what  is  loveliest  of 
all.  ..."  He  broke  off  and  sat  sunk  in  thought ; 
then  presently  he  asked  : 

"  Where  is  Nela  ?" 

"  I  cannot  think  what  has  come  over  the  poor 
child,"  said  Florentina.  "  I  suppose  she  does  not 
wish  to  see  you." 

"She  is  bashful  and  very  shy,"  replied  Pablo: 

"  She    is   afraid    of    troubling    us    in    the   house. 

Florentina,  I  must  tell  you  —  in  confidence,  that  I 

love  her  dearly ;  you  will  love  her  too.     I  have  a 

15  * 


228  MARIAXELA. 

most  eager  wish  to  see  my  good  little  comrade  and 
friend." 

"  I  will  go  and  look  for  her  to-morrow  morn- 
ing myself." 

"  Yes,  do  —  but  do  not  be  gone  long.  When 
I  do  not  see  you  I  feel  very  lonely ;  I  have  be- 
come accustomed  to  see  you,  and  these  three  days 
have  been  centuries  of  happiness.  —  Do  not  rob 
me  of  a  minute.  Last  night  my  father  told  me 
that  after  having  seen  you  I  ought  never  to  want 
to  see  another  woman." 

"  What  nonsense  !"  exclaimed  the  girl  blush- 
ing. "There  are  plenty  much  prettier  than  I 
am...."  • 

"No,  no;  they  all  say  no."  Pablo  vehemently 
declared,  turning  his  blindfold  eyes  towards  his 
cousin,  as  if  he  could  see  her  even  through  his 
bandages.  "  They  used  to  tell  me  so  before,  and 
I  could  not  believe  it ;  but  now  that  I  have  seen 
the  world  and  know  what  beauty  is,  I  believe  it  — 
yes  indeed  I  do.  You  are  perfectly  lovely  ;  there 
is  no  one  —  there  can  be  no  one  more  lovely. — 
Give  me  your  hand."  And  he  grasped  it  eagerly 
in  both  of  his. 

"  I  laugh  now,"  he  went  on,  "  to  think  of  my 
absurd  blind  man's  vanity,  of  my  foolish  attempts 
to  realize  the  true  aspect  of  things  without  seeing 


MARIANELA.  22Q 

them.  I  believe  that  as  long  as  I  live  I  shall 
never  forget  the  surprise  that  the  reality  was  to 
me.  Reality !  Oh,  the  man  who  knows  it  not  is 
blind  indeed,  a  perfect  idiot !  —  Florentina  I  was 
an  idiot." 

"  No,  cousin,  you  were  always  very  clever  and 
so  you  are  still.  But  do  not  let  your  fancy  work 
too  vividly  now.  It  will  soon  be  time  to  go  to 
bed.  Don  Teodoro  particularly  said  that  I  was 
not  to  let  you  talk  so  late,  because  it  keeps  you 
from  sleeping ;  if  you  do  not  keep  quiet  I  shall 
go  away." 

"  Is  it  night  already  ?" 

"Yes,  quite  night." 

"But  day  or  night  I  love  to  talk  to  you," 
Pablo  persisted,  tossing  over  on  his  bed,  on  which 
he  was  lying  dressed  and  very  restless.  "  I  will 
be  silent  on  one  condition,  and  that  is  that  you  do 
not  go  away  from  my  side,  and  that,  from  time  to 
time,  you  pat  the  bed  with  your  hand  that  I  may 
know  that  you  are  there." 

"  Very  well,  so  I  will,  and  this  is  the  first  sign 
of  life,"  said  Florentina,  laughing  and  patting  the 
mattress. 

"  When  I  hear  you  laugh,  I  feel  as  if  a  breath 
of  sweet  fresh  air  blew  round  me,  and  all  my 
senses  help  in  some  way  to  remind  me  of  you. 


230  MARIANELA. 

Your  image  lives  in  my  memory  so  vividly,  that 
even  with  my  eyes  bandaged  I  can  see  you  still 
the  same." 

"  Will  you  have  done  chattering  or  must  I 
fetch  Don  Teodoro  ?"  said  the  girl  gaily. 

"No,  no  —  stay  quiet.  I  cannot  be  silent  —  if 
I  were  to  be  silent  all  my  thoughts  —  all  I  can  see 
in  my  brain  —  would  only  torment  me  twice  as 
much.  And  you  want  me  to  go  to  sleep  !  Sleep  ! 
But  I  have  you  in  here,  Florentina,  making  a  tur- 
moil in  my  brain,  and  driving  me  crazy.  I  am  so 
full  of  joy  and  rapture  that  I  have  no  words  to 
express  them.  All  last  night  I  fancied  I  was 
talking  to  you  and  to  Nela.  —  Poor  little  Nela ! 
I  am  most  curious  to  see  her.  —  Desperately 
curious." 

"  Well,  I  will  find  her  to-morrow.  Now,  have 
done  with  your  talking ;  if  you  do  not  cease  I 
shall  go." 

"  No,  stop.  I  will  only  talk  to  myself.  I  will 
say  all  the  things  I  say  to  you  at  night  when  I 
fancy  we  are  alone  together — I  will  remember 
what  you  say  to  me." 

"  I  ?" 

"  Well,  the  things  I  can  fancy  I  hear  said  in 
your  voice — Now,  do  you  be  silent,  Senorita.  I 
am  alone  now  with  my  own  imaginings." 


MARIANELA.  23! 

The  next  day  when  Florentina  came  up  to 
her  cousin's  room,  she  said  : 

"  I  brought  Maraquilla  up  here  and  she  ran 
away.  Ungrateful  little  thing !" 

"  And  you  did  not  look  for  her  ?" 

"  Where  was  I  to  look  ?  She  ran  away  from 
me.  This  evening  I  will  go  out  again  and  hunt 
her  till  I  find  her." 

"  No,  no  ;  do  not  go  out,"  said  Pablo  eagerly. 
"  She  will  come  back,  she  will  come  of  her  own 
accord." 

"  She  seems  out  of  her  mind." 

"  Does  she  know  that  I  can  see  now  ?" 

"  I  myself  told  her.  But  really  I  am  sure  she 
has  lost  her  wits.  She  says  that  I  am  the  Holy 
Virgin  and  kisses  my  dress." 

"  That  shows  that  you  have  produced  the  same 
impression  on  her  as  on  every  one  else.  Nela  is 
so  sweet.  Poor  little  girl  !  We  must  take  care  of 
her,  Florentina,  and  be  kind  to  her  —  do  not  you 
think  so  ?" 

.  "  She  is  ungrateful  I  am  afraid,"  said  Floren- 
tina sadly. 

"  No,  never  think  so.  Nela  could  not  be  un- 
grateful. She  is  a  good  child  —  I  am  very  fond 
of  her.  She  must  be  found  and  brought  here  to 
me." 


232  MARIANELA. 

"  I  will  go." 

"  No  —  not  you,"  said  Pablo  positively,  taking 
his  cousin's  hand.  "Your  duty,  most  undutiful 
cousin,  is  to  take  care  of  me.  If  Golfin  does  not 
come  soon  to  take  off  my  bandage  and  put  on  my 
glasses,  I  shall  do  it  myself.  I  have  not  seen  you 
since  yesterday,  and  I  cannot  bear  it  —  I  cannot 
bear  it.  Is  Don  Teodoro  come  ?" 

"  He  is  down  stairs  with  your  father  and  mine. 
He  will  come  up  quite  soon.  Have  patience ;  you 
are  as  bad  as  a  school-boy." 

Pablo  writhed  with  irritation. 

"  Light,  light !"  he  cried.  "  It  is  a  crime  to 
keep  me  in  the  dark  so  long.  I  cannot  live  like 
this  —  I  shall  die.  I  want  what  is  the  bread  of 
life  to  me ;  I  want  the  use  of  my  eyes.  I  have 
not  seen  you  to-day,  cousin,  and  I  am  wild  to  see 
you.  I  am  hungry,  thirsty  to  see  you.  Oh  !  thank 
God  for  real  knowledge  !  Thank  God  for  having 
created  you,  sweetest  of  women,  a  combination  of 
every  beauty.  —  And  yet,  if  after  having  created 
beauty,  God  had  not  given  us  hearts  to  feel  it, 
how  imperfect  his  work  would  have  been  !  Light ! 
light !  .  .  ," 

Teodoro  came  up  and  opened  the  gates  of  the 
outer  world  to  him,  filling  his  soul  with  joy,  and 
he  passed  a  quiet  day  talking  of  a  variety  of  sub- 


MARIANELA.  233 

jects.  Not  till  the  evening  did  his  thoughts  revert 
to  that  point  in  his  past  life,  which  seemed  to  be 
diminishing  and  fading  in  the  distance,  like  vessels 
which  on  a  clear  day  are  lost  on  the  horizon.  It 
was  in  the  tone  of  a  man  who  recalls  some  long 
past  circumstance,  that  Pablo  asked  :  "  Has  not 
Nela  made  her  appearance  ?" 

Florentina  replied  that  she  had  not,  and  they 
talked  of  other  things. 

In  the  course  of  the  night,  at  a  very  late  hour, 
Pablo  heard  the  noise  of  voices  in  the  house.  He 
fancied  he  heard  those  of  Teodoro  Golfin,  of 
Florentina,  and  of  his  father.  But  after  that  he 
slept  quietly,  though  haunted  in  his  dreams  by  the 
images  of  all  he  had  seen  and  the  phantoms  of  all 
he  imagined.  His  dreams,  which  began  tranquilly 
and  smilingly,  afterwards  became  agitated  and 
painful,  for  in  some  deep  recess  of  his  soul,  as 
though  it  were  a  vast  cavern  suddenly  lighted  up, 
rose  a  medley  array  of  the  beautiful  and  the 
hideous  forms  of  the  outside  world  —  of  passions 
awakened  and  memories  buried  —  convulsing  his 
whole  soul.  The  following  day,  as  Golfin  had 
promised,  he  left  his  room  to  move  about  the 
house. 


234  MARIANELA. 


CHAPTER  XXL 

EYES      THAT      KI  LL. 

THE  room  which  had  been  assigned  to  Floren- 
tina  at  Aldeacorba  was  the  pleasantest  in  the 
house.  No  one  had  used  it  since  the  death  of 
Pablo's  mother ;  but  Don  Francisco,  deeming  his 
niece  worthy  to  be  lodged  there,  had  the  room 
neatly  arranged  and  added  some  little  elegancies 
which  had  been  quite  unknown  to  it  in  his  wife's 
lifetime.  The  balcony  looked  southwards  and 
over  the  garden,  so  that  the  room  was  always 
flooded  with  light  and  perfume,  and  cheered  by 
the  happy  song  of  birds.  Florentina  herself, 
during  her  few  days'  stay,  had  given  it  the  stamp, 
so  to  speak,  of  her  own  individuality ;  all  sorts  of 
small  properties  and  trifles  betrayed  the  nature  of 
the  woman  who  lived  in  it,  as  you  may  know  a 
bird  by  its  nest.  If  there  are  some  persons  who 
would  make  a  hell  of  a  palace,  so  there  are  others 
who  have  only  to  enter  a  hovel  to  make  it  a  Para- 
dise. 

It  was  that  very  stormy  day — I  say  that  day, 
for  I  cannot  name  the  date ;  I  only  know  that  it 
was  a  day.  It  had  rained  all  the  morning ;  then 


MARIANELA.  235 

the  sky  had  cleared,  and  at  last,  high  above  the 
misty  whiteness  of  the  lower  atmosphere,  a  rain- 
bow threw  its  glorious  arch.  One  end  rested  on 
the  oaks  of  Ficobriga,  close  to  the  sea,  and  the 
other  on  the  woods  of  Saldeoro.  Supreme  in  its 
simplicity  the  rainbow  can  be  compared  to  nothing 
else,  any  more  than  an  absolutely  ideal  and  typi- 
cal form  can  be.  A  rainbow  is  the  epitome,  the 
alpha  and  omega,  of  visible  color. 

Florentina  was  in  her  room,  not  threading 
beads,  nor  embroidering  satin  with  gold  thread, 
but  cutting  out  garments  from  patterns  made  of 
newspaper.  She  was  squatting  on  the  floor,  in 
the  attitudes  of  a  fidgetty  child  at  play;  now 
sitting  on  her  heels,  now  on  all  fours,  and  plying 
the  scissors  without  a  moment's  respite.  By  her 
side  was  a  heap  of  pieces  of  woollen  stuff,  calico, 
cotton  print,  and  other  materials  that  she  had  been, 
that  very  morning,  to  buy  at  Villamojada,  in  spite 
of  wind  and  weather ;  and  snipping  here,  and  cut- 
ting there,  she  was  fast  evolving  sleeves,  skirts,  and 
bodies.  They  were  not  perhaps  models  of  dress- 
making, nor  was  the  exactitude  of  the  patterns  to 
be  entirely  relied  on,  for  they  also  were  of  her 
own  devising ;  however,  she  would  have  been  the 
first  to  acknowledge  their  shortcomings,  and  she 
hoped  that  good- will  might  conduce  to  a  happy 


236  MARIAXELA. 

result.  Her  worthy  father  had  said  to  her,  as  he 
saw  her  sitting  to  work : 

"  Bless  me,  child  !  one  would  think  there  were 
no  dressmakers  in  the  world.  You  cannot  ima- 
gine how  it  annoys  me  to  see  a  young  lady  of 
good  position  crawling  about  on  the  floor  with 
shears  in  her  hands.  —  It  is  not  at  all  the  right 
thing.  I  cannot  bear  that  you  should  work  to 
clothe  yourself  even,  and  am  I  to  submit  to  see 
you  working  for  others  ?  What  are  dressmakers 
for — heh  ?  What  are  dressmakers  for  ?" 

"  A  dressmaker  would  do  it  much  better  than 
I  shall,"  replied  Florentina  laughing.  "  But  then 
you  see  it  would  not  be  my  doing,  Papa ;  and  to 
do  it  myself  is  the  very  thing  I  most  want." 

He  left  her  to  her  own  devices;  but  not  alone, 
for  in  the  middle  of  the  alcove,  between  the  bed 
and  the  wardrobe,  stood  an  old-fashioned  sofa  and 
on  the  sofa  lay  two  blankets,  and  at  one  end,  on 
a  pile  of  pillows,  lay  a  weary  little  head.  The 
face  was  haggard  and  colorless — asleep.  Sunk 
rather,  in  an  uneasy  lethargy,  broken  now  and 
again  by  violent  starting  and  terrors.  However, 
a  calmer  state  had  supervened  by  mid-day,  when 
Florentina's  father  came  into  the  room  again,  fol- 
lowed by  Golfin.  The  surgeon  went  up  to  the 
sofa  and  leaned  over  Nela,  watching  her  face. 


MARIANELA.  237 

"She  seems  to  be  sleeping  more  quietly  now," 
he  said:  "We  must  have  no  noise." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  my  daughter  ?"  said 
Don  Manuel,  laughing.  "  Do  you  see  all  the 
trouble  she  is  taking.  Now  be  quite  impartial, 
Don  Teodoro  :  Is  there  any  reason  why  she  should 
vex  me  ?  Honestly,  when  there  is  no  necessity  for 
taking  so  much  trouble,  why  should  she  do  so  ? 
What  pleasure  can  it  be  to  me  to  see  my  daughter 
wasting  all  I  give  her  for  pin-money ;  wasting  it 
on  others ;  and  besides  this  mania  for  low  occu- 
pations— for  low  occupations.  .  .  ." 

"  Let  her  please  herself,"  replied  Golfin,  looking 
down  admiringly  at  the  girl.  "  Every  young  lady 
has  her  own  way  of  wasting  her  pin-money." 

"  And  I  am  not  to  object  if  her  charity  brings 
her  to  destitution,  to  bankruptcy  !"  exclaimed  Don 
Manuel,  marching  up  and  down  the  room  in  pom- 
pous indignation,  with  his  hands  in  his  pockets. 
"Besides,  is  there  no  better  method  of  charity  than 
this  ?  She  wished  to  show  her  gratitude  to  God 
for  my  nephew's  recovery — well  and  good — very 
proper,  a  very  Christian  feeling.  But  we  shall  see, 
we  shall  see." 

He  stopped  in  front  of  Nela  and  looked  at 
her  kindly. 

"  Now,  would  it  not  have  been  better,"  he  said, 


MAKIANELA. 


"'  if,  instead  of  bringing  this  poor  girl  into  the 
house,  my  daughter  had  organized  one  of  those 
grand  charitable  affairs,  which  are  the  fashion  even 
at  court,  and  which  give  all  the  best  people  in 
society  an  opportunity  of  displaying  their  good 
feeling?  Why  did  you  not  think  of  holding  a 
lottery  ?  We  could  easily  have  sold  any  number 
of  tickets  among  our  friends,  and  have  collected 
a  handsome  sum  of  money  to  give  away  to  chari- 
table asylums.  Why,  you  might  have  got  up  an 
association  among  the  gentry  of  Villamojada  and 
the  neighborhood,  or  have  invited  all  our  acquain- 
tance at  Santa  Irene  de  Campo  to  join  you,  and 
have  held  meetings  and  collected  a  great  deal  of 
money.  —  Nay,  why  not  have  got  up  a  bull-fight  ? 
I  would  have  undertaken  to  provide  the  beasts 
and  the  men.  —  Or  amateur  theatricals?  —  Last 
night  Dona  Sofia  and  I  were  talking  of  that  very 
thing.  Learn  from  her,  my  dear,  learn  from  her. 
The  poor  owe  more  to  her  than  I  can  tell  you. 
There  are  all  the  families  who  live  by  the  em- 
ployment they  get  in  working  the  lotteries  —  there 
are  all  the  professionals  and  subordinates  who 
make  money  by  the  theatrical  performances  !  Oh  ! 
my  dear,  the  paupers  in  the  workhouse  are  not  the 
only  poor  !  Sofia  told  me  that  they  made  a  little 
fortune  out  of  the  masked  balls  they  gave  this 


JMARIANELA.  239 

winter.  A  good  deal  of  it  was  spent,  of  course, 
in  gas,  in  renting  the  theatre,  in  service,  and  so 
forth — still  there  was  a  morsel  of  bread  left  for 
the  poor  after  all.  —  But,  if  you  do  not  believe  me, 
read  the  statistics,  child  —  read  the  statistics." 

Florentina  laughed,  and  found  no  better  an- 
swer than  to  repeat  the  surgeon's  apology  for  her : 

"Every  young  lady  has  her  own  way  of  wast- 
ing her  pin-money." 

"But  Don  Teodoro,"  remonstrated  Don 
Manuel,  in  great  disgust:  "  You  must  admit  that 
no  one  else  does  it  as  my  daughter  does." 

"  I  quite  admit  it,"  said  Golfin  with  meaning, 
and  looking  at  the  girl:  "  No  one  is  like  FJoren- 
tina." 

"And  yet  —  with  all  her  faults,"  said  the 
father,  drawing  her  to  him  :  "  With  all  her  faults, 
I  love  her  better  than  my  life.  This  little  hussy  is 
worth  her  weight  in  gold.  —  Come,  tell  me,  which 
do  you  like  best,  Aldeacorba  de  Suso,  or  Santa 
Irene  de  Campo  ?" 

"  I  do  not  dislike  Aldeacorba." 

"  Ah  !  little  puss.  I  see  which  way  the  wind 
blows.  Do  you  know  that  at  this  very  moment 
my  brother  is  talking  seriously  to  his  son  ?  Family 
affairs  !  Well,  and  something  very  good  is  to  come 
of  it  all  —  look,  Don  Teodoro,  at  my  daughter's 


240  MARIANELA. 

face ;  it  is  as  red  as  roses  in  May.  Now,  I  am  off 
to  hear  what  my  brother  has  to  say  —  what  my 
brother  has  to  say."  And  the  worthy  man  de- 
parted. 

Golfin  went  back  to  Nela. 

"  Did  she  sleep  last  night  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Very  little.  I  heard  her  sobbing  and  crying 
all  night.  But  to-night  she  shall  have  a  good  bed, 
for  which  I  have  sent  to  Villamojada,  and  I  will 
put  her  in  the  little  room  next  to  mine." 

" Poor  little  Nela  !"  said  the  doctor.  "You  can- 
not imagine  what  an  interest  I  feel  in  this  hapless 
creature.  Some  people  would  laugh  at  it,  but  we, 
at  any  rate,  are  not  made  of  stone.  What  little 
we  have  done  to  improve  the  condition  of  this 
poor  child,  ought  to  be  done  for  a  large  propor- 
tion of  the  human  race.  There  are  many  thou- 
sands of  beings  in  the  world  in  the  same  plight  as 
Nela.  Who  knows  them  ?  where  are  they  ?  They 
are  lost  in  the  desert  of  society  —  for  society  has 
its  deserts  —  in  the  dark  places  of  life,  in  the  soli- 
tudes of  field  labor,  in  mines,  in  factories.  We 
pass  them  without  even  seeing  them  —  we  give 
them  alms,  perhaps,  but  without  knowing  them.  — 
How  are  we  to  be  cognizant  of  so  base  a  class  of 
humanity  !  At  first  Nela  attracted  me  because  I 
thought  that  hers  was  an  exceptional  nature;  but. 


MARIANELA.  24! 

as  I  have  thought  more,  I  have  felt  that  hers  is 
after  all  only  one  of  the  commonest  cases.  It  is 
an  instance  of  the  condition  to  which  a  highly- 
organized  moral  nature  must  be  reduced,  a  nature 
apt  for  good,  apt  for  learning,  apt  for  virtue,  but 
which  can  never  develop  its  powers  in  the  neglect 
and  isolation  to  which  it  is  condemned.  They 
live  blind  in  spirit,  just  as  Pablo  Penaguilas  lived 
blind  in  body,  though  he  possessed  the  latent 
faculty  of  sight." 

Florentina  was  listening  with  eager  sympathy 
and  intelligence  to  the  surgeon's  speech. 

"  Look  at  her,"  he  went  on  :  "  There  she  lies  ; 
she  has  a  beautiful  fancy,  acute  feelings,  and  can 
love  with  devotion  and  tenderness.  She  is  gifted 
with  a  remarkable  aptitude  for  every  grace  of 
mind,  while,  at  the  same  time,  she  is  full  of  the 
grossest  superstitions;  her  religious  ideas  are 
vague,  monstrous,  and  heterodox,  and  her  moral 
sense  needs  guidance  as  much  as  her  natural  in- 
telligence. She  has  had  no  education  but  what 
she  has  been  able  to  give  herself;  like  a  tree  that 
gets  no  nourishment  but  that  of  its  own  withered 
and  fallen  leaves,  she  owes  absolutely  nothing  to 
any  one  else.  In  all  her  life  she  has  never  been 
taught  a  single  lesson,  never  heard  a  word  of  lov- 
ing counsel,  nor  a  precept  of  pious  dogma  ;  she  is 

16 


242  MARIANELA. 

guided  entirely  by  ill-understood  examples  which 
she  adapts  to  her  own  instincts  and  desires.  Her 
criticisms  are  all  her  own,  and  as  she  is  full  of 
imagination  and  feeling,  and  the  strongest  native 
impulse  of  her  soul  is  to  worship  something,  she 
has  worshipped  Nature,  after  the  fashion  of  primi- 
tive races.  All  her  ideals  are  naturalistic  —  and  if 
you  do  not  quite  understand  what  I  mean,  dear 
Florentina,  I  must  explain  myself  more  exactly 
another  time. 

"  She  has  a  really  artistic  passion  for  form  and 
beauty.  Her  whole  nature  and  her  affections  all 
centre  round  this  idea.  The  gifts  and  graces  of 
the  mind  are  to  her  an  unknown  realm  of  beauty, 
a  hardly- discovered  land,  of  which  she  knows  only 
so  much  as  some  traveller  might  of  a  new  country 
on  whose  shores  he  had  been  shipwrecked.  The 
great  news  of  the  gospel — the  greatest  achieve- 
ment of  the  spirit  of  humanity  —  has  hardly  even 
sounded  in  her  ears ;  she  has  the  same  faint  sus- 
picion of  it  that  Asiatic  nations  may  have  of 
European  culture — and  if  you  do  not  quite  under- 
stand me,  dear  Florentina,  I  must  explain  myself  / 
more  exactly  another  time. 

"But  she  is  very  capable  of  making  rapid 
progress  in  a  short  time,  and  of  rising  to  a  higher 
level,  nay  to  our  own.  Show  her  a  little  light  and 


MARIANELA.  243 

she  will  fly  across  the  centuries — she  has  wan- 
dered from  the  track,  and  cannot  see  far,  but  give 
her  light  and  she  will  find  her  way  again.  No 
one  yet  has  ever  put  the  torch  in  her  hand,  for 
Pablo  Penaguilas,  in  his  own  ignorance  of  all  ex- 
ternal truth,  contributed  largely  but  unconsciously 
to  increase  her  errors.  Such  a  fantastic  and 
extravagant  idealist  was  not  the  best  master  for  a 
nature  like  hers.  We  must  set  truth  before  the 
poor  child,  who  is  like  a  being  raised  from  the 
dead  of  a  remote  past ;  we  will  teach  her  to  know 
the  graces  of  the  mind ;  we  will  bring  her  down 
to  our  own  century;  we  will  give  her  soul  a 
strength  which  as  yet  it  has  not,  and  put  a  noble 
Christian  conscience  in  the  place  of  her  savage 
naturalism  and  wild  superstitions.  We  have  an 
admirable  field  to  work  in,  a  virgin  soil  on  which 
to  sow  the  seed  of  centuries  of  growth.  We  may 
make  time  fly  fast  over  her  head,  showing  her  the 
truth  it  has  revealed,  and  so  create  a  new  being — 
for  indeed,  dear  Florentina,  it  is  the  same  thing  as 
creating  a  new  being — and  if  you  do  not  quite 
understand  me,  I  must  explain  myself  more  ex- 
actly another  time." 

Florentina,  though  she  made  no  pretensions 
to  learning,  thought  that  she  did  understand  what 
Golfin  had  meant  by  his  quaint  and  original 

16* 


244  MARIANELA. 

harangue.  She  herself  was  about  to  add  some 
remarks  on  the  subject ;  but  at  that  moment  Nela 
woke.  Her  eyes  timidly  wandered  round  the 
room,  and  then  rested  alternately  on  the  two  faces 
that  looked  down  at  her. 

"  You  are  not  frightened  ?"  said  Florentina 
gently. 

"Frightened — no  Senora;  you  are  very  kind 
— and  the  Senor  too." 

"  Are  you  not  glad  to  be  here  ?  what  are  you 
afraid  of?" 

Golfin  took  her  hand.  "  Speak  frankly  and 
truly,"  he  said  :  "Which  of  us  do  you  like  best — 
Florentina  or  me  ?" 

Nela  made  no  reply,  and  the  others  smiled ; 
but  the  child  remained  moodily  grave. 

"Now,  listen  to  me,  you  silly  little  thing,"  the 
surgeon  went  on  :  "  You  have  to  make  up  your 
mind  to  live  with  one  of  us.  Florentina  will  stay 
here ;  I  shall  go  away.  Decide  for  one  or  the 
other — which  do  you  like  best." 

Marianela  looked  from  one  to  the  other  with- 
out finding  any  definite  answer ;  finally  her  eyes 
rested  on  those  of  Golfin. 

"  I  believe  I  am  the  man  of  her  choice.  —  But 
that  is  not  fair  to  Florentina,  Nela ;  she  will  be 
vexed." 


MARIANELA.  245 

The  poor  child  smiled  and,  putting  out  a  feeble 
hand  to  Florentina,  she  murmured : 

"  I  do  not  want  to  vex  her." 

But  even  while  she  spoke  she  turned  ashy 
pale  ;  she  strained  her  neck,  her  eyes  seemed  start- 
ing out  of  her  head — she  was  listening  to  a  sound- 
that  was  full  of  terrors  to  her.  She  had  heard 
footsteps. 

"  He  is  coming !"  exclaimed  Golfin,  sympa- 
thizing in  his  patient's  alarm. 

"Yes,  here  he  comes!"  cried  Florentina,  and 
she  flew  to  the  door. 

It  was  he.  Pablo  had  opened  the  door  and 
walked  softly  into  the  room  —  straight  in,  from 
the  habit  he  had  acquired  during  years  of  blind- 
ness. He  came  in  smiling,  and  his  eyes,  freed 
from  the  bandage,  which  he  had  himself  removed, 
looked  straight  before  him.  They  were  as  yet 
unaccustomed  to  the  muscular  action  which  makes 
them  turn,  and  were  hardly  aware  of  objects  lying 
out  of  the  direct  line  of  vision.  It  was  literally 
true  of  him — as  it  is  of  many  who  never  were 
blind  in  their  lives  —  that  he  only  saw  what  was 
directly  under  his  eyes. 

"  Cousin  !"  said  he  going  towards  her:  "Why 
have  you  not  been  to  see  me  to-day?  I  have  had 
to  come  to  look  for  you.  Your  father  told  me 


246  MARIANELA. 

you  were  doing  some  work  for  the  poor — so  I 
suppose  I  must  forgive  you." 

Florentina  did  not  know  what  to  say;  she 
was  annoyed.  Pablo  had  not  observed  either 
Golfin  or  Nela,  and  Florentina,  intending  to  keep 
him  from  approaching  the  sofa,  went  towards  the 
window;  then,  picking  up  some  pieces  of  stuff,  she 
sat  down  as  if  she  were  going  to  sew.  The  full 
light  of  the  sun  fell  upon  her,  shedding  a  vivid 
glow  on  all  her  left  side  and  giving  the  most 
charming  relief  to  her  pretty  head  with  its  russet 
brown  hair.  Her  beauty  seemed  radiant;  like 
the  very  personification  and  incarnation  of  light. 
Her  hair  was  somewhat  in  disorder,  and  her  thin 
morning  dress  followed  the  graceful  lines  of  her 
slender  figure,  while  her  simple  and  dignified  pose 
was  worthy  of  the  noblest  ideals  of  art. 

"  Cousin,"  she  said  with  a  slight  frown  on  her 
pretty  brow,  "  Don  Teodoro  has  not  yet  given 
you  leave  to-day  to  take  your  bandage  off.  That 
is  not  right." 

"  He  will  give  me  leave  presently,"  said  the 
young  man  laughing.  '  And  it  cannot  hurt  me; 
I  am  really  quite  well.  And  if  it  did  do  me 
harm,  I  should  not  care.  —  No,  I  should  not 
care  if  I  became  blind  again,  after  having  seen 
you." 


MARIANELA.  247 

"And  what  good  would  that  be  to  you  ?"  said 
Florentina  reprovingly. 

"  I  was  alone  in  my  room,  my  father  is  gone 
out — after  speaking  to  me  about  you.  You  know 
what  he  said." 

"  No,  I  know  nothing  about  it,"  said  the  girl, 
with  her  eyes  fixed  on  her  work. 

"But  I  know.  —  My  father  is  very  kind  and 
reasonable,  and  we  are  very  fond  of  each  other.  .  . . 
Well,  when  my  father  had  left  me,  I  took  off  the 
bandage  and  looked  out  at  the  fields ;  I  saw  the 
rainbow  and  I  felt  quite  overcome  with  admira- 
tion, and  with  religious  feeling  too,  Florentina — 
I  do  not  know  why  that  grand  spectacle,  which  I 
had  never  seen  before,  should  have  given  me  so 
intense  a  feeling  of  the  harmony  of  creation.  I  do 
not  know  why,  looking  at  the  perfect  blending  of 
its  colors,  I  could  not  help  thinking  of  you. 
I  do  not  know  why,  as  I  saw  the  rainbow,  I  said 
to  myself:  '  I  have  felt  this  all  before.'  I  felt 
again  exactly  as  I  felt  when  I  first  saw  you,  Flo- 
rentina, my  darling.  My  heart  seemed  ready  to 
burst  my  bosom,  and  I  could  not  help  crying. 
I  cried  a  great  deal  and  my  tears  blinded  me  again 
for  a  few  minutes — I  called  you  and  you  did  not 
answer — when  I  could  see  again,  the  rainbow  had 
vanished.  I  went  to  look  for  you,  I  thought  you 


248  MARIANELA. 

were  in  the  garden — I  went  down  stairs,  up  stairs, 
and  here  I  am.  And  now,  here,  I  find  you  so 
lovely  that  I  feel  as  if  I  had  never  seen  you 
rightly  till  to-day — never  till  to-day,  because  now 
I  have  had  time  to  learn  to  compare  you  with 
others.  I  have  seen  several  women,  and  they  are 
all  horrible  by  your  side.  I  find  it  hard  to  believe 
that  you  have  lived  through  the  years  of  my 
blindness. — Nay,  nay.  What  I  believe  is  that  you 
came  into  being  at  the  moment  when  light  dawned 
upon  my  comprehension ;  that  my  own  mind 
created  you  at  the  moment  when  I  first  was  lord 
of  the  visible  world.  They  had  often  told  me  that 
there  was  not  a  living  creature  to  compare  with 
you,  and  I  would  not  believe  it — but  I  believe  it 
now,  as  surely  as  I  believe  in  the  light  of  heaven!" 

And  as  he  spoke  he  fell  on  one  knee. 

Florentina,  startled  and  abashed,  looked  up 
from  her  sewing. 

"  Cousin  —  for  pity's  sake  !"  she  murmured. 

"Cousin  —  for  pity's  sake!"  exclaimed  Pablo, 
with  frank  enthusiasm.  "Why,  why,  are  you  so 
lovely  ?  My  father  is  most  reasonable  ;  I  can  say 
nothing  against  his  arguments  or  his  kindness. — 
Florentina,  do  you  know  I  thought  I  could  never 
love  you  ;  I  thought  I  could  love  some  one — not 
you.  But  what  can  I  do  ?  Thank  God  my  love 


MARIANELA.  249 

and  my  reason  are  one !  My  father,  to  whom  I 
confessed  my  mistake;  told  me  that  I  had  loved  a 
hideous  monster.  But  now  I  can  say  that  I  wor- 
ship an  angel.  The  ignorant  blind  man  can  see, 
and  at  last  pay  due  homage  to  real  beauty.  And 
yet  I  cannot  help  trembling — do  you  not  see  me 
tremble  ? — Seeing  you  I  have  but  one  desire,  and 
that  is,  to  take  you  in  my  arms  and  clasp  you  to 
my  heart,  enfolding  you,  holding  you  tightly — 
very  tightly." 

And  Pablo,  who  was  now  kneeling  on  both 
knees,  clasped  his  arms  across  his  breast. 

"  Oh  !  I  do  not  know  what  I  feel !"  he  went 
on,  stammering,  and  turning  pale  with  agitation. 
"  Every  day  I  discover  some  new  world,  Floren- 
tina.  First  I  discovered  the  world  of  light,  to-day 
I  have  discovered  another.  Is  it  possible  that 
you,  so  lovely — so  divine  —  are  to  be  mine,  the 
wife  of  my  heart  ?" 

He  seemed  about  to  fall  to  the  ground  in  a 
fainting-fit,  and  Florentina  leaned  forward  to  sup- 
port him.  "  Pablo  took  her  hand,  then  lifting  her 
wide  loose  sleeve,  he  kissed  her  wrist  and  arm 
with  eager  passion,  counting  the  kisses. 

"  One  —  two  —  three  —  four  —  ah  !  I  am 
dying  !" 

"Be  quiet,  stop,"  cried  Florentina,  standing 


25O  MARIANELA. 

up,  and  making  her  cousin  rise  too.  "  Doctor 
Golfin  will  you  scold  him." 

"Your  bandage  on,  at  once!"  cried  Teodoro : 
"  Go  to  your  room  and  keep  quiet." 

The  young  man,  in  the  utmost  confusion  turned 
to  that  side  of  the  room  and  brought  his  eyes  to 
bear  on  the  surgeon,  standing  by  the  sofa  that 
was  covered  with  blankets. 

"  Are  you  here,  Don  Teodoro  ?"  he  said  going 
up  to  him. 

"Yes,  I  am  here,"  said  Golfin  very  gravely. 
"  You  ought  to  go  back  to  your  room  and  put  the 
bandage  on  again.  I  will  go  with  you." 

"  I  am  perfectly  well — but,  of  course,  I  will 
obey  —  only,  first  let  me  see  what  is  here." 

He  was  looking  at  the  blankets  and,  between 
them,  at  a  ghastly  head,  anything  but  fair  to  look 
upon.  In  fact  Nela's  nose  seemed  to  have  become 
sharper,  her  eyes  smaller,  her  mouth  less  well- 
formed,  her  face  more  freckled,  her  hair  thinner, 
and  her  forehead  lower.  Her  eyes  were  closed, 
she  breathed  with  difficulty,  her  livid  lips  were 
parted,  and  the  hapless  child  seemed  to  be  at  her 
last  gasp,  with  the  look  of  death  on  her  face  al- 
ready. 

"  Ah  !"  exclaimed  Pablo :  "  My  father  told  me 
that  Florentina  had  given  shelter  to  some  poor 


MARIANELA.  2$l 

creature.  How  good  of  her  !  You  —  poor  child, 
you  may  be  thankful,  for  you  have  fallen  into  the 
hands  of  an  angel !  —  Are  you  ill  ?  In  my  house 
you  shall  want  for  nothing ;  my  cousin  is  the  very 
image  of  God  on  earth. — This  poor  child  is  very 
ill ;  is  she  not  doctor  ?" 

"Yes.  .  ."  said  Golfin,  "she  must  be  left  alone 
and  hear  no  more  talking." 

"Then  I  am  gone." 

Pablo  put  out  his  hand  and  laid  it  on  the 
head  which  seemed  to  his  unaccustomed  eyes  the 
most  terrible  symbol  of  all  human  misery  and 
wretchedness.  Nela  raised  her  eyes  and  fixed 
them  on  her  master.  Pablo  felt  as  if  they  gazed 
at  him  from  the  depths  of  a  tomb,  so  profound 
was  their  expression  of  sorrow  and  despair ;  then 
Nela  freed  one  hand  from  beneath  the  coverings 
— a  feeble,  burning,  rough  little  hand  —  and  took 
that  of  the  young  man.  At  her  touch  Pablo 
shuddered  from  head  to  foot,  and  uttered  a  cry 
that  came  from  his  very  soul. 

There  was  a  terrible  pause  —  one  of  those  lulls 
which  precede  the  catastrophes  of  life  as  they  do 
the  convulsions  of  nature,  as  though  to  add  to 
their  solemnity. 

Then,  in  a  quavering  voice  that  thrilled  the 
by-standers  with  its  tragical  sadness,  Nela  spoke : 


252  MARIAXELA. 

"  Yes,  Senorito  mio"  she  said,  "  I  am 
Nela." 

Slowly,  and  as  if  she  were  lifting  some  too 
heavy  weight,  she  raised  her  master's  hand  to  her 
dry  lips  and  kissed  it  —  kissed  it  again  —  and  then, 
with  a  third  attempt,  her  lips  remained  motionless 
on  the  lad's  hand. 

They  were  all  silent — looking  at  her.  The  first 
to  break  the  silence  was  Pablo. 

"Is  this  you.  .  .  ."  he  said,  "you.  .  .  ."  And 
the  thoughts  that  crowded  on  his  mind  checked 
his  utterance  of  any.  He  would  have  liked  to  dis- 
cover some  new  language  in  which  to  utter  them, 
just  as  he  had  already  discovered  the  two  new 
worlds  —  of  light,  and  of  the  love  of  external 
beauty.  He  could  do  nothing  but  look  at  her  — 
look  at  Nela  and  remember  that  darkened  world 
in  which  he  had  lived,  his  passions  and  the  dreams 
and  errors  of  his  blindness  all  wandering  and  lost 
in  its  obscurity.  Florentina,  wiping  away  her 
tears,  leaned  over  Nela  to  look  into  her  face,  and 
Golfin,  watching  her  and  knowing  too  well  what 
he  saw,  exclaimed  in  a  voice  like  a  knell : 

"  It  has  killed  her.  The  sight  of  you  has  killed 
her!" — then  turning  to  Pablo  he  said  sternly: 
"  Go,  at  once,  to  your  room." 

"  Dying !  dying  so,  without  any  cause  !"  cried 


MARIANELA.  253 

Florentina  in  despair,  and  laying  her  hand  lightly 
on  Nela's  brow. 

"  Maria  !"  she  said,  "  Marianela !" 

She  called  her  by  her  name  again  and  again, 
leaning  over  her  and  looking  at  her,  as  we  might 
look  over  the  margin  of  a  well  at  some  one  who 
has  fallen  into  it  and  who  is  drowning  in  the  depth 
and  blackness  of  its  waters. 

"  She  does  not  answer !"  said  Pablo,  horror- 
stricken. 

Golfin,  watching  her  ebbing  vitality,  perceived 
that  her  pulse  still  throbbed  under  his  touch. 
Pablo  bent  over  her,  and  putting  his  lips  close  to 
her  ear,  he  called  her  once  more  : 

"  Nela,  Nela  my  friend — my  dear  !" 

She  turned  a  little,  opened  her  eyes,  and 
moved  her  hands.  She  looked  as  if  her  spirit  had 
returned  from  some  far  away  flight.  Seeing  Pablo's 
gaze  fixed  upon  her  with  anxious  curiosity,  she 
turned  aside  abashed  and  alarmed,  and  tried  to 
hide  her  face  as  if  she  were  a  guilty  thing. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  her  ?"  asked  Floren- 
tina vehemently.  "  Don  Teodoro,  save  her  if  you 
are  a  man.  —  If  you  do  not  save  her  you  are  a 
charlatan  !  .  .  .  " 

The  young  girl's  charitable  instincts  were  spur- 
ring her  to  positive  rage. 


254  MARIANELA. 

"  Nela !"  repeated  the  lad  in  the  deepest  dis- 
tress, and  not  yet  recovered  from  the  shock  which 
the  sight  of  his  'little  comrade  had  given  him  : 
"You  seem  to  be  afraid  of  me  —  what  have  I 
done  to  you  ?" 

The  dying  girl  put  out  her  hand  to  clasp  Floren- 
tina's,  and  pressed  it  to  her  breast,  and  then  she  did 
the  same  with  Pablo's ;  afterwards  she  once  more 
pressed  them  both  with  all  the  strength  she  could 
command.  Her  sunken  eyes  looked  from  one  to  the 
other,  but  her  gaze  was  vague  and  remote;  it 
seemed  to  come  from  some  inner  depth  of  dark- 
ness and  despair,  as  though  she  were  indeed  the 
drowning  wretch  in  the  well,  sinking  lower  every 
instant.  Suddenly  her  breathing  became  difficult; 
she  sighed,  and  clutched  the  two  hands  she  held 
with  convulsive  energy. 

Teodoro  had  turned  the  house  upside  down  ; 
had  sent  for  medicines  and  powerful  stimulants, 
and  was  doing  all  in  his  power  to  arrest  the  swift 
extinction  of  this  young  life. 

"  It  is  hard,"  he  said,  "  to  stop  a  drop  of  water 
that  is  trickling,  falling  away — down,  down,  and 
within  an  inch  or  two  of  the  great  Sea.  —  But  I 
will  try." 

He  sent  away  every  one  but  Florentina,  whom 
he  kept  in  the  room.  But  the  stimulants  and 


MARIANELA.  255 

irritants  with  which  he  endeavored  to  bring  back 
ebbing  life  to  the  frail  body,  only  served  to  restore 
some  little  muscular  action,  and  in  spite  of  this 
she  was  sinking  every  minute. 

"  It  is  cruelty  !"  cried  Golfin  desperately,  as  he 
snatched  away  the  mustard  and  the  irritants. 
"  We  are  tormentors  and  torturers.  It  is  like  set- 
ting dogs  on  'a  dying  man  that  the  pain  may  keep 
him  alive  to  suffer.  Away  with  it  all !" 

"  And  is  there  nothing  to  be  done  ?" 

"  Nothing — but  what  God  will  do." 

"  But  what  is  the  matter  with  her  ?" 

"  Death  !"  he  shouted  with  a  delirious  rage  of 
grief,  ill-befitting  a  medical  man. 

"  But  what  illness  is  it  that  has  brought  her  to 
death  ?" 

"  Death  !"  he  repeated. 

"  You  do  not  understand  me ;  I  want  to  know 
of  what.  .  .  .  ?" 

"  Of  death.  —  How  can  I  tell  you  whether  it 
is  shame,  or  jealousy,  or  wounded  pride,  or  grief, 
or  disappointed  love,  that  has  killed  her?  A  strange 
catalogue  of  symptoms  !  No,  no — we  know  noth- 
ing—  nothing  but  useless  details." 

"What!  Doctors!" 

"  I  tell  you  we  know  nothing — a  little  on  the 
surface  that  is  all." 


256  MARIANELA. 

"  And  this,  what  is  this  ?" 

"A  sudden  attack  of  inflammation — menin- 
gitis perhaps." 

"  And  what  is  that  ?" 

"  A  name.  .  .  .  Death !" 

"  But  is  it  possible  that  any  one  should  die — 
like  this — without  any  known  cause,  without  any 
sort  of  disease  ?  Oh  !  Don  Teodord,  what  is  the 
matter  with  her  ?" 

"  How  should  I  know  ?" 

"  But  you  are  a  doctor  ?" 

"Of  eyes — not  of  passions." 

"  Passions !"  exclaimed  Florentina,  looking 
down  at  the  senseless  girl.  "You — poor  child — 
what  passions  are  you  dying  of?" 

"Ask  your  future  husband." 

Florentina  stood  lost  in  utter  amazement 

"Poor  thing!"  she  cried  with  a  choked  sob. 
"  Can  mere  grief  kill  in  this  way  ?" 

"  When  I  picked  her  up  at  la  Trascava  she 
was  in  a  high  fever." 

"  But  that  is  not  enough ;  no,  not  enough  to 
kill  her !" 

"  You  say  it  is  not  enough.  God  and  Nature 
say  that  it  is." 

"  It  is  as  if  she  had  been  stabbed." 

"  Remember  what  those  eyes  —  now  closing 


MARIANELA.  257 

forever  —  saw  a  short  while  since.       Remember 

that  a  blind  man  loved  her  and  that  he  is  blind 

no  longer;  that  he  has  seen  her  —  seen  her !     The 

shock  was  a  death-blow.  ..." 

"  Oh  what  a  terrible  mysterious.  .  .  .  H 

"  No,  it  is  no    mystery,"  cried  the  surgeon, 

almost  wildly.      "  It  is  tha  awful  collapse  of  tin 

illusion^  the  rude"^fjlow  of  reality]  the  miserable 
^destroyer  which  has   come   between  two   nokle1 ) 

souls.     And  I  —  I  brought  that  reality  home  to  ' 

them  !" 

"  Oh    it   is   a   wretched    mystery !"    repeated 

Florentina,  not  understanding  the  current  of  .his 

thoughts. 

"  A  mystery  ?  No,"  repeated  Teodoro  with 
increasing  agitation  :  "  It  is  bare  reality ;  the  sud- 
den swallowing  up  of  a  whole  world  of  illusions. 
Reality  to  him  meant  a  new  life — to  her,  anguish, 
suffocation,  humiliation,  sorrow,  contempt,  an 
empty  life,  jealousy, — Death  !" 

"And  all  for " 

"  And  all  for  one  pair  of  eyes  opened  to  see 
light — and  reality.  Reality!  I  cannot  get  the 
word  out  of  my  brain.  It  seems  to  be  written 
there  in  letters  of  fire." 

"All  for  one  pair  of  eyes. — And  grief  can  kill 

17 


258  MARIANELA. 

so  quickly  —  without    giving    us    time    to    try   a 
remedy  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know,"  said  Golfin,  bewildered,  con- 
founded, helpless,  in  view  of  the  mystic  characters 
of  the  Book  of  Life  and  Death,  which  science 
may  pore  over  but  may  not  decipher  its  dark  rid- 
dle. 

"  You  do  not  know !"  cried  Florentina  desper- 
ately. "  Then  why  are  you  a  doctor  ?" 

"  I  do  not  know,  I  do  not  know  !"  he  reiterated, 
striking  his  dishevelled  head  with  his  heavy  hands. 
—  "Yes,  one  thing  I  know,  and  that  is  that  we 
know  nothing  but  the  skin-deep  phenomena^  of 
"file!  I— I  am  a  menHer  ofeyes  and  nothing 
more." 

He  fixed  his  gaze  with  absorbed  attention  on 
the  little  figure  which  was  hovering  on  the  border- 
land between  a  living  woman  and  a  corpse.  "  Soul !" 
he  exclaimed  in  a  tone  of  bitter  questioning : 
"  WJiat  is  passing  in  you  now  ?" 

Florentina  burst  into  tears. 

"  The  soul !"  she  murmured,  and  her  head 
drooped  on  her  breast :  "  It  is  fled  !' 

"  No.  .  .  "  said  Teodoro,  taking  Nela's  hand. 
"  There  is  still  some  life  left  —  but  so  little,  that  it 
would  seem  as  if  the  soul  were  indeed  far  away 
and  had  left  only  the  breath  behind." 


MARIANELA.  2  59 

"  Lord  have  mercy !"  exclaimed  the  young 
girl  and  began  to  pray. 

"  Alas !  hapless  spirit !"  murmured  the  sur- 
geon. "You  were  but  ill-lodged  indeed.  .  .  .". 

They  both  bent  over  her,  watching  her  closely. 

"  Her  lips  are  moving,"  cried  Florentina. 
"  She  is  speaking." 

Yes,  her  lips  parted;  she  _  said  something — a 
word,  two,  three. 

"  What  is  she  saying  ?"  each  asked  the  other  ; 
but  neither  of  them  could  understand  her. 

She  spoke  perhaps  in  the  tongue  that  is  known 
to  those  who  live  the  life  eternal. 

This  was  the  end;  her  lips  moved  no  more; 
they  remained  half- open  showing  a  row  of  little 
white  teeth.  Teodoro  bent  over  her  and,  kissing 
Nela's  forehead,  he  said  in  a  steady  voice : 

"Woman,  you  did  well  to  quit  this  world." 
But  Florentina's  voice  was  choked  with  tears  and 
sobs  as  she  said :  "  I  wanted  to  make  her  happy, 
and  she  would  not  be." 


26O  MARIANELA. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

FAREWELL. 

STRANGE  and  wonderful  to  tell !  Nela,  who 
had  never  in  her  life  had  a  room,  nor  clothes,  nor 
shoes,  nor  food,  nor  sympathy,  nor  relations,  nor 
any  earthly  thing  of  her  own,  not  even  a  name  — 
was  buried  in  a  style  which  caused  no  small 
amount  of  envy  among  the  living  in  Socartes. 
This  posthumous  splendor  was  the  bitterest  irony 
ever  known  in  these  metalliferous  regions.  Seiior- 
ita  Florentina,  acting  on  her  generous  impulses, 
consoled  herself  for  the  disappointment  of  not 
having  been  able  to  help  Nela  alive,  by  the  satis- 
faction of  doing  honor  to  her  hapless  remains  after 
death.  Some  hard-hearted  materialists  criticised 
her  severely ;  but,  for  our  part,  we  regarded  it  as 
an  additional  proof  of  her  refined  kind-hearted- 
ness. 

When  Nela  was  carried  to  the  grave,  the 
curious  who  came  to  gaze  at  her,  thought  her 
almost  pretty — wonderful  to  say  !  At  least  so 
they  said.  It  was  the  first  time  a  compliment 
had  ever  been  paid  her.  The  funeral  was  mag- 
nificent, and  the  priests  of  Villamojada  opened 


MARIANELA.  26l 

their  mouths  wide  in  astonishment  when  they 
found  themselves  receiving  money  to  pray  for  the 
soul  of  La  Canela's  daughter.  It  was  bewildering, 
amazing,  to  think  that  a  being  whose  social  im- 
portance had  been  about  equal  to  that  of  a  worm 
or  a  fly,  should  prove  the  occasion  of  so  much 
burning  of  tapers,  of  so  much  hanging  of  drapery, 
and  of  making  so  many  choristers  and  sacristans 
hoarse.  Nay,  it  was  so  astounding  as  to  be  posi- 
tively amusing ;  nothing  else  was  talked  of  for  at 
least  six  weeks. 

The  surprise,  and  indeed — to  be  frank — the 
indignation  of  this  worthy  little  world,  culminated 
one  day  when  two  waggons,  loaded  with  enor- 
mous blocks  of  fine  white  stone,  were  descried 
approaching  by  the  high-road.  In  Senana's  mind, 
particularly,  a  hideous  subversion  of  ideas  took 
place,  a  cataclysm  resulting  in  mental  chaos,  when 
she  brought  herself  to  believe  that  those  fine  white 
stones  were  to  build  Nela's  tomb.  If  an  ox  had 
taken  to  flying  or  her  husband  to  making  speeches, 
it  could  not  have  roused  her  from  her  stupefac- 
tion. 

The  parish  registers  of  Villamojada  were 
searched,  for  of  course  it  was  indispensable  that 
she  should  have  a  name  now  she  was  dead,  though 
she  had  done  without  one  during  her  life ;  as  is 


262  MARIANELA. 

proved  by  this  very  history,  where  she  has  borne 
various  names.  And  this  indispensable  requisite 
having  been  found,  and  duly  placed  on  the 
records  of  the  dead,  the  magnificent  tomb,  which 
stood  up  proudly  among  the  rustic  crosses  of  the 
graveyard  at  Aldeacorba,  had  this  epitaph  en- 
graved on  it : 

R.    I.    P. 

MARI'A  MANUELA  TELLEZ. 

RECALLED    TO    HEAVEN 

OCTOBER  THE  izth,  186  .  .  . 

And  a  wreath  of  flowers  prettily  carved  in  the 
marble,  crowned  the  inscription.  Many  months 
later,  when  Florentina  and  Pablo  Penaguilas  had 
been  some  time  married  and  no  one — to  tell  the 
truth,  for  truth  is  the  first  consideration  —  no  one 
in  Aldeacorba  de  Suso  remembered  Nela  any 
longer,  some  travellers  of  the  tourist  genus,  in 
crossing  that  part  of  the  country,  happened  to 
observe  the  grand  marble  sepulchre  erected  in  the 
cemetery  by  the  piety  and  affection  of  an  exem- 
plary friend,  and  were  struck  with  admiration. 
Without  more  ado  they  proceeded  to  write  down 
in  their  note-book  these  remarks,  which  were  sub- 


MARIANELA.  263 

sequently  published  under  the  title  of  "  Sketches 
from  Cantabria,"  in  an  English  newspaper. 

"The  most  remarkable,  object  to  be  seen  at 
Aldeacorba  is  a  magnificent  monument,  erected 
in  the  cemetery  over  the  grave  of  a  young  lady 
of  rank,  famous  in  that  part  of  the  country  for  her 
beauty.  Dona  Mariquita  Manuela  Tellez  be- 
longed to  one  of  the  noblest  and  wealthiest 
families  in  Cantabria,  that  of  Tellez  Giron  y  de 
Trastamara.  Witty,  romantic,  and  capricious,  she 
took  a  fancy  to  wander  about  the  roads,  playing 
the  guitar  and  singing  Calderon's  odes,  and  she 
would  dress  herself  up  in  rags  to  enable  her  to 
mix  with  the  herd  of  beggars,  pick-pockets,  trou- 
badours, bull-fighters,  friars,  hidalgos,  gypsies,  and 
muleteers,  which  at  the  great  kermesas,  constitute 
that  motley  scene  of  Spanish  low  life  which  still 
exists  and  always  must  exist,  independent  and 
picturesque,  in  spite  of  the  railways  and  newspa- 
pers which  have  begun  to  force  their  way  into  the 
Spanish  Peninsula. 

"The  abad*  of  Villamojada  wept  as  he  told  us 
of  the  whims,  the  virtues,  and  the  beauty  of  this 
wealthy  gentlewoman,  who,  whenever  she  ap- 
peared at  the  balls,  banquets,  or  canas  of  Madrid, 
was  distinguished  for  her  aristocratic  deportment. 

*  In  some  provinces  the  rector  of  a  parish. 


264  MARIANELA. 

The  number  of  romanceros,  sonnets  and  madrigals 
composed  in  honor  of  this  noble  damsel  by  all  the 
Spanish  poets,  is  beyond  all  calculation."* 

On  reading  this  I  saw  at  once  that  the  worthy 
reporters  had  dreamed  dreams.  I  determined  to 
tell  the  truth,  and  the  truth,  as  I  have  told  it,  has 
resulted  in  this  book. 


We  must  now  bid  farewell  forever  to  this  tomb. 
We  will  fix  our  eyes  on  another  object,  seek  out 
another  figure — searching  diligently,  for  he  whom 
we  want  is  but  a  small  personage,  a  minute  insect, 
as  it  were,  no  larger  on  the  face  of  the  earth  than 
the  Phylloxera  on  the  vine.  But  we  have  found 
him  —  there  he  is,  tiny,  squalid,  a  mere  atomy. 
But  he  lives  and  breathes,  and  will  grow  great  in 
time.  Listen  to  his  story,  for  it  is  an  interesting 
one  I  promise  you. 

Well,  Sir 

But  no  ;  it  does  not  belong  to-  this  book.  If 
you  like  the  history  of  Marianela,  in  good  time 
you  shall  hear  that  of  Celipin. 

THE   END. 


*  The  point  of  this  passage  in  the  original  is  the  misuse  of  Spanish 
words  and  the  introduction  of  others  which  are  not  Spanish.  Thus 
Hidalgo  means  a  nobleman  ;  and  Kermesas,  FT.,  Kermesse,  Dutch, 
Kermis,  is  a  name  for  a  fair  peculiar  to  Holland  and  Belgium. 


ADVERTISEMENTS. 


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Clara  Bell.    Authorized  edition,  in  two  vols. 

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AN    EGYPTIAN  PRINCESS.    By  Georg  Ebers,  translated  by 
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from  the  latest  German  edition,  in  two  vols. 
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GLORIA 

A   NOVEL 

BY 

B.    PEREZ    GALDOS 

FROM  THE  SPANISH  BY  CLARA  BELL. 


"  Senor  Perez  Galdos  is  one  of  the  new  lights  of 
Spanish  literature.  He  comes  very  near  to  being  a  great 
novelist;  and  he  certainly  is  a  novelist  of  exceptional 
power.  What  he  c'an  do,  and  also  what  he  cannot  do, 
is  shown  to  English  readers  in  his  '  Gloria,'  translated  by 
Clara  Bell.  This  story  is  a  presentation  of  existing 
social,  religious  and  political  conditions  in  Spain;  and 
as  a  photograph  it  is  a  brilliant  success." 

—Phila.  Times,  Apnl  30,  1882. 

"  The  Spain  which  Senor  Galdos  paints  is  still  the 
Spain  of  Sancho  Panza,  and  the  spirit  of  Cervantes  is 
visible  in  his  description  of  the  sacred  images  in  the 
Chapel."—  The  Press,  Phila.,  April n,  1882. 

"  The  literary  style  of  the  book  is  worthy  of  study. 
The  character  drawings  are  good,  the  descriptive  pas- 
sages excellent,  and  there  is  an  exuberance  of  diction 
and  a  richness  of  simile  and  comparison  that  is  essen- 
tially Spanish." — Boston  Post,  March  20,  1882. 

IN  TWO  VOLUMES. 

Price,  in  paper  covers,  SI.OO  per  set. 
in  cloth  binding,    1.75        do 


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QUINTUS  CLAUDIUS 

A    ROMANCE    OF  IMPERIAL   ROME 

BY 


FROM  THE   GERMAN   BY   CLARA   BELL 

Containing  nearly  600  Historical  Notes  and  References. 


"We  owe  to  Eckstein  the  brilliant  romance  of  '  Quintus  Claudius,* 
which  Clara  Bell  has  done  well  to  translate  for  us,  for  it  is  worthy  of 
place  beside  the  Emperor  of  Ebers  and  the  Aspasia  of  Hamerling.  It 
is  a  story  of  Rome  in  the  reign  of  Domitian,  and  the  most  noted  char- 
acters of  the  time  figure  in  its  pages,  which  are  a  series  of  picturesque 
descriptions  of  Roman  life  and  manners  in  the  imperial  city,  and  in 
those  luxurious  retreats  at  Baiae  and  elsewhere  to  which  the  wealthy 
Romans  used  to  retreat  from  the  heats  of  summer.  It  is  full  of  stirring 
scenes  in  the  streets,  in  the  palaces,  in  the  temples,  and  in  the  amphi- 
theatre, and  the  actors  therein  represent  every  phase  of  Roman  char- 
acter, from  the  treacherous  and  cowardly  Domitian  and  the  vile 
Domitia  down  to  the  secret  gatherings  of  the  new  sect  and  their  exit 
from  life  in  the  blood-soaked  sands  of  the  arena,  where  they  were 
torn  in  pieces  by  the  beasts  of  the  desert.  The  life  and  the  manners 
of  all  classes  at  this  period  were  never  painted  with  a  bolder  pencil 
than  by  Eckstein  in  this  masterly  romance,  which  displays  as  much 
scholarship  as  invention.  —  Mail  and  Express,  N.  Y.,  Dec.  I,  1882. 

"A  new  Rowince  of  Ancient  Times!  The  success  of  Emst  Eck- 
stein's new  novel,  '  Quintus  Claudius,'  which  recently  appeared  in 
Vienna,  may  fairly  be  called  phenomenal,  critics  and  the  public  unite 
in  praising  the  work."  —  Grazer  Morgenpost, 

"  '  Quintus  Claudius'  is  a  finished  work  of  art,  capable  of  bearing 
any  analysis,  a  literary  production  teeming  with  instruction  and  inter- 
est, full  of  plastic  forms,  and  rich  in  the  most  dramatic  changes  of 
mood."  —  Pester  Lloyd. 

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ASPASIA 

A  ROMANCE 

OF  ART  AND  LOVE  IN  ANCIENT  HELLAS 

BY 

ROBERT    HAMERLING 

FROM  THE  GERMAN  BY  MARY  J.  SAFFORD 


OPINIONS  OF  THE  PRESS  IN  GERMANY. 
"'Aspasia'  is  a  poem,  which  seems  to  have  been  accidentally  clad 
in  the  garb  of  prose.  Every  portion  of  it  is  permeated  and  trans- 
figured by  the  loftiest  ideas  of  humanity.  Yet  what  we  particularly 
admire  in  this  brilliant  work  is  the  great  skill  with  which  the  Greek 
local  coloring  is  reproduced.  Hamerling,  in  this,  his  latest  creation, 
proves  himself  to  be  a  delineator  of  mankind  par  excellence.  The 
description  of  characters  is  as  truthful  as  it  is  interesting.  'Aspasia' 
is  a  historical  picture;  for  the  incidents  and  persons  within  the  limits 
of  the  story  are  in  the  main  historical,  only  the  minor  accessories  being 
imaginary.  The  whole  action  revolves  about  the  central  figure  of 
'Aspasia,'  who  stands  forth  with  majestic  grandeur.  No  reader  will 
be  able  to  escape  the  lofty,  poetic  charm  of  the  book." — 

Europa,  (Leipsic). 

"  It  is  one  of  the  great  excellencies  of  this  romance,  this  lofty  song 
of  the  genius  of  the  Greeks,  that  it  is  composed  with  perfect  artistic 
symmetry  in  the  treatment  of  the  different  parts,  and  from  the  first 
word  to  the  last  is  thoroughly  harmonious  in  tone  and  coloring. 
Therefore,  in  'Aspasia,'  we  are  given  a  book,  which  could  only  pro- 
ceed from  the  union  of  an  artistic  nature  and  a  thoughtful  mind — a 
book  that  does  not  depict  fiery  .passions  in  dramatic  conflict,  but  with 
dignified  composure,  leads  the  conflict  therein  described  to  the  final 
catastrophe." — Allgemcine  Zcitung.  (Augsburg). 


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ANTINOUS 

A  ROMANCE  OF  ANCIENT  ROME 

BY 

GEORGE   TAYLOR 

FROM  THE  GERMAN  BY  MARY  J.  SAFFORD. 


"  Antinous,  a  Romance  of  Ancient  Rome,  from  the 
German  of  George  Taylor,  by  Mary  J.  Safford,  is  one 
of  those  faithful  reproductions  of  ancient  manners,  cus- 
toms and  scenery  which  German  authors  are  so  fond  of 
writing,  and  in  which  they  are  so  wonderfully  successful. 
The  story  deals  with  the  old  age  of  the  Emperor  Hadrian 
and  with  his  favorite  Antinous.  The  recital  is  full  of 
power,  and  is  extraordinary  in  its  vividly  realistic  draw- 
ing of  character.  Though  a  minutely  close  study  of 
historical  detail,  it  is  spirited  in  the  telling  and  of  ab- 
sorbing interest  in  the  plot  and  descriptions.  The  era 
and  the  personages  stand  out  with  stereoscopic  clearness. 
Nothing  could  be  finer  than  the  portrait  of  the  melan- 
choly Hadrian  and  its  beautifully-contrasted  fellow 
picture,  the  sorrowful  Antinous.  The  book  is  one  that 
appeals  to  every  cultivated  taste,  and  overflows  with 
interest  of  the  most  refined  description."  —  Saturday 
Evening  Gazette,  Boston,  July  i,  1882. 

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IE  ILi  I  .A.  3ST  IE 

BY 

MM«   AUGUSTUS    CRAVEN 

FROM  THE  FRENCH   BY 
LADY    GEORGIANA    FULLERTON 


"  We  have  before  us  an  excellent  specimen  of  the 
better  class  of  French  novels.  It  is  '  Eliane, '  by 
Madame  Augustus  Craven.  It  illustrates  in  a  very 
charming  way  the  various  results  of  the  French  system 
of  making  courtships  and  marriages.  The  book  is  a 
very  charming  one,  which  we  have  read  with  pleasure." 
— The  Mail,  Toronto,  Aug.  n,  1882. 

"  It  is  not  only  pure,  but  is,  we  believe,  a  trustworthy 
description  of  the  dignified  French  life  of  which  it  is  a 
picture.  '  Eliane'  is  one  of  the  very  best  novels  we  have 
read  for  one  or  two  seasons  past." — The  American  Lit. 
Churchman,  Baltimore,  August  i,  1882. 

" '  Eliane'  is  interesting,  not  only  because  it  is  such  a 
record  of  the  best  kind  of  French  life  and  manners  as 
could  only  have  been  written  by  a  person  thoroughly 
at  home  in  the  subject,  but  also  because  of  the  delicate 
drawing  of  character  which  it  contains.  The  book  is 
quiet  in  tone,  and  may  fail  to  please  readers  who  care 
for  nothing  but  incident;  but  there  are,  it  may  be  hoped, 
still  many  readers  to  whom  its  grace  and  fine  style  will 
recommend  it." — London  Sat.  Review,  June  3,  1882. 

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A  ROMANCE 

BY 

ANTON    GIULIO    BARRILI 
FROM  THE  ITALIAN  BY  CLARA  BELL 


"  It  is  an  attractive  little  novel,  spirited  in  plot,  and 
marked  by  a  charming  grace  in  the  telling.  It  is  at 
once  bright,  witty  and  delicate,  is  simple  in  design,  but 
has  a  marked  dramatic  interest.  The  characters  are 
brilliantly  sketched,  the  dialogue  is  spirited,  and  there  is 
an  unconventionality  in  the  work  as  a  whole  that  makes 
it  thoroughly  delightful  reading."  —  Boston  Saturday 
Evening  Gazette,  May  28,  1882. 

"  There  is  more  to  the  work  than  appears  on  the 
surface,  many  passages  being  fruitful  subjects  for  psycho- 
logical meditation.  The  characters  are  all  well  drawn, 
especially  those  of  the  serious-minded  prior,  the  obese 
and  tractable  uncle,  and  the  grandiloquent  sub-prefect. 
The  author  is  an  unusually  good  painter  of  human  nat- 
ure, and  the  ease  and  naturalness  of  his  style  is  refresh- 
ing. No  fault  is  to  be  found  with  the  translation." — 
Boston  Evening  Transcript,  May  20,  1882. 

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A  Whimsical   Wooing 

BY 

ANTON    GIULIO    BARRILI 

Author  of  "The  Eleventh  Commandment." 

FROM  THE  ITALIAN  BY  CLARA  BELL 


"Some  months  ago  we  had  occasion  to  praise  a  pleas- 
ant novel  of  modern  Italian  life  by  the  author  of  the 
above  story.  The  present  is  not  less  deserving  of  praise. 
It  is  just  the  very  thing  to  play  as  an  afterpiece.  Cast 
into  purely  dramatic  form  —  indeed,  without  any  change 
at  all — it  would  form  a  sparkling  little  comedietta  for  a 
private  theatrical  party.  The  little  volume  is  most 
charming ;  it  is  very  brief,  but  every  line  sparkles ;  and 
we  find  it  all  too  short." —  Toronto  Mail. 

" '  A  Whimsical  Wooing '  is  the  richly-expressive 
title  under  which  'Clara  Bell'  introduces  a  cleverly- 
narrated  episode  by  Anton  Guilio  Barrili  to  American 
readers.  It  is  a  sketch  of  Italian  life,  at  once  rich  and 
strong,  but  nevertheless  discreet  in  sentiment  and  grace- 
ful in  diction.  It  is  the  old  story  of  the  fallacy  of 
trusting  to  a  proxy  in  love  matters." — Boston  Post. 


ONE  VOLUME 

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"A  ROMANCE  OF  A  SOUL." 


ERNESTINE 

A  NOVEL 

BY 

WILHELMINE  von  HILLERN 

FROM  THE   GERMAN  BY  S.    BARING-GOULD. 


"' Ernestine '  is  a  work  of  positive  genius.  An  English  critic  has 
likened  the  conception  of  the  heroine  in  her  childhood  to  George  El- 
iot's Maggie  Tulliver,  and  truly  there  is  a  certain  resemblance ;  but 
there  is  in  the  piece  a  much  stronger  suggestion  of  George  Eliot's 
calm  mastery  of  the  secret  springs  of  human  action,  and  George 
Eliot's  gift  of  laying  bare  the  life  of  a  human  soul,  than  of  likeness 
between  particulars,  characters  or  situations  here  and  those  with  which 
we  are  familiar  in  George  Eliot's  work." — New  York  Evening  Post, 
Feb.  17,  1881. 

"  Ernestine  in  her  childhood  somewhat  reminds  us  of  Maggie  TulK- 
ver  in  the  Mill  on  the  Floss,  and  in  her  maidenhood  of  Mr.  1  ennyson's 
Princess.  For  many  a  year  as  child  and  woman  she  grieved  that  she 
had  not  been  born  a  man.  In  fact,  she  was  a  downright  and  fearless 
champion  of  woman's  rights.  But  in  the  end  she  yields,  and  as  we 
take  leave  of  her,  we  hear  her  saying  to  her  husband,  '  I  thank  God 
that  I  am  a  woman  and  that  I  am  yours.'  Very  pretty,  though  per- 
haps too  sad,  are  the  opening  scenes  in  which  we  first  make  her  ac- 
quaintance." 

1 '  There  are  many  humorous  touches  throughout  the  work  which 
afford  a  pleasant  relief  to  the  more  pathetic  portions." 

"  In  fact,  in  many  places  as  we  read  the  story,  we  saw  that  it  would 
easily  adapt  itself  to  the  purposes  of  the  dramatist. — London  Saturday 
Review. 


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THE  HOUR  WILL  COME 

A  TALE  OF  AN  ALPINE  CLOISTER 

BY 

WILHELMINE  VON  HILLERN 

FROM  THE  GERMAN  BY  CLARA  BELL. 


"  The  Hour  Will  Come;  A  Tale  of  an  Alpine  Cloister,  by  Wilhel- 
mine  von  Hillern,  is  a  charming  story,  perhaps  somewhat  old-fashioned 
in  regard  to  plot,  but  gracefully  and  thoughtfully  written,  and  full  of 
interest  in  its  admirable  painting  of  character.  It  has  a  fine  local 
color,  and  its  descriptions  are  strikingly  vivid  and  picturesque.  It 
belongs  to  the  best  class  of  modern  German  fiction,  and  will  be  read 
with  pleasure  and  satisfaction  by  every  person  of  taste.  The  transla- 
tion, by  Clara  Bell,  may  be  warmly  praised  for  its  spirit  and  its  easy 
flow." — Boston  Saturday  Evening  Gazette,  Oct.  9,  1880. 


"  The  Hour  Will  Come"  is  the  title  of  a  translation  by  Miss  Clara 
Bell  from  the  German  original  of  Wilhelmine  von  Hillern,  author  of 
that  beautiful  romance  "  Geier-Wally."  "The  Hour  Will  Come"  is 
hardly  less  interesting,  its  plot  being  one  of  the  strongest  and  most 
pathetic  that  could  well  be  imagined.  The  time  is  the  Middle  Ages, 
and  Miss  Von  Hillern  has  achieved  a  remarkable  success  in  repro- 
ducing the  rudeness,  the  picturesqueness  and  the  sombre  coloring  of 
those  days.  Those  who  take  up  "The  Hour  Will  Come  "will  not 
care  to  lay  it  down  again  until  they  have  read  it  through — Baltimore 
Gazette,  Wednesday,  October  13,  1880. 


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HIGHER  THAN  THE  CHURCH 

AN  ART  LEGEND  OF  ANCIENT  TIMES 


BY 


WILHELMINE  VON  HILLERN 

FROM  THE  GERMAN  BY  MARY  J.  SAFFORD 


"Mary  J.  Safford  translates  acceptably  a  very  charming  short 
story  from  the  German  of  Wilhelmine  von  Hillern.  If  it  was  not  told 
by  the  sacristan  of  Breisach,  it  deserves  to  have  been.  It  has  the 
full  flavor  ot  old  German  and  English  love  tales,  such  as  have  been 
crystallized  in  the  old  ballads.  The  Emperor,  the  gifted  boy,  his 
struggles  with  the  stupidity  of  his  townsmen,  his  apparently  hopeless 
love  above  him ;  these  form  the  old  delightful  scene,  set  in  a  Durer- 
esque  border.  There  are  touches  here  and  there  which  refer  to  the 
present.  The  sixteenth  century  tale  has  a  political  moral  that  will 
appeal  to  Germans  who  believe  that  Alsatia,  once  German  in  heart  as 
well  as  in  tongue,  ought  to  be  held  by  force  to  the  Fatherland  till  she 
forgets  her  beloved  France." — N.  Y.  Times,  Dec.  ^th,  1881. 


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RANTHORPE 

A  NOVEL 

BY 

GEORGE  HENRY  LEWES 


It  is  not  difficult  to  explain  why  '•  Ranthorpe  "  was  not  a  success 
in  the  ordinary  sense  of  a  popular  novel;  but  the  explanation  will 
probably  give  the  reason  why  it  has  been  since  recalled  to  the  atten- 
tion of  the  reading  world.  It  was  of  too  didactic  a  quality  to  suit  the 
tastes  of  novel-readers  in  search  of  mere  sensation.  It  is  full  of  moral- 
izings,  and,  although  the  topics  are  secular  enough,  it  is  rather 
preachy.  Bet  there  is  a  good  deal  of  wisdom  in  it  that  is  not  without 
its  use.  The  hero  of  the  book  runs  a  literary  career,  goes  first  into 

poetry  and  fails,  then  into    the  drama,  and  his  tragedy  is  d d. 

The  main  interest  of  the  volume  is  in  the  copious  side  discussions  on 
the  causes  of  failure  in  literary  adventure,  and  we  have  a  vivid  and 
readable  illustration  of  ideas  which  the  author  subsequently  developed 
in  his  review  articles  on  "The  Principles  of  Success  in  Literature." 
From  this  point  of  view  the  book  is  instructive,  while  the  plot  keeps  up 
the  reader's  interest  in  the  usual  way. —  The  Popular  Science  Monthly. 


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A  PRACTICAL  METHOD 


FOR 


LEARNING  SPANISH 

BY 

A.  RAMOS  DIAZ  DE  VILLEGAS 


"  Spanish  is  not  under  any  circumstances  a  difficult  language 
to  learn.  It  has  in  its  construction  and  pronunciation  an  encour- 
aging directness  very  unlike  the  grammatical  involutions  of  German 
and  the  delicate  sound-shadings  of  French.  Working  in  accord- 
ance with  the  rules  of  almost  any  'system,'  a  diligent  student  can 
in  a  very  little  while  acquire  a  fair  mastery  of  the  language;  though 
it  is  true  that  some  of  the  '  systems '  are  much  more  difficult  than 
others.  One  of  the  simplest  and  best  of  them  all  is  'A  Practical 
Method  for  Learning  Spanish,'  by  Senor  A.  Ramos  Diaz  de 
Villegas,  just  now  published  by  William  S.  Gottsberger,  New  York. 
The  « method '  of  Senor  de  Villegas  comprehends  a  collection  of 
anecdotes  arranged  in  short  lines  with  an  English  translation, 
similarly  arranged,  on  the  corresponding  opposite  page ;  familiar 
phrases,  with  idiomatic  renderings  in  English  in  parallel  columns ; 
a  vocabulary  of  words  in  common  use,  and  a  complete  list  of  the 
Spanish  irregular  verbs.  It  will  be  observed  that  this  method 
hardly  can  be  called  original ;  that  it  is  more  or  less  that  of  Morales, 
of  Velazquez,  of  Prendergast,  and  that  some  of  its  features  are 
found  in  Ollendorff  and  in  Ahn;  but  in  simplicity  of  arrangement 
and  directness  of  purpose  it  is  superior  to  all  of  these — Prendergast 
possibly  excepted.  It  certainly  is  what  it  is  called — a  practical 
method  for  learning  Spanish.  With  a  relatively  small  outlay  of 
mental  exertion  it  produces  exceptionally  good  results." — Philadel- 
phia Times,  June  24,  1882. 


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